


Deep End

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers 2012 - Freeform, CAWS Canon Divergence, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Conflict, Contracts, Dom Tony Stark, Every So Slightly DubCon, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meeting, Footwashing, Forced Subspace, Handfeeding, Happy Ending, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Missions, Non-Sexual Submission, Obie is A Piece of Work, Pining, Pre-Avengers (2012), Relationship Issues, Rope Bondage, Sub Steve Rogers, Subdrop, Submission, Subspace, Token Holding, Tony/Other, mentions of noncon, references to past abuse, references to rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:32:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: SHIELD has found a way to make Project Rebirth work - something Tony's father was never able to accomplish. An unexpected side effect has Fury begging Tony for some rather unusual help: the painful procedure has put their volunteer, a sub called Steve Rogers, so deep into subspace he can't come up on his own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhenasInSilks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenasInSilks/gifts).



> For WhenasInSilks' stocking [here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/753737.html) <3

Tony rapped his fingers on his knee and leaned back in his chair. He checked his watch again. He'd been waiting for seven minutes. He wasn't used to people making him wait. He was just about to stand and walk out when Fury stormed into the room and slumped down in the chair behind his desk. Tony rocked back on the legs of his chair and raised an eyebrow at Fury.

Fury coughed, eyeing him for a moment. "We have a delicate situation."

"I figured. Considering how cagey Hill was on the phone."

"We need your help with something." Fury folded his arms over the desk and leaned forward. "Your help, not Iron Man's."

Tony quirked his head to the side. "I'm listening."

"You might remember," Fury began, "a project called Rebirth in your father's files."

"... I might." Tony kept still in his chair, blank gaze fixed on Fury.

"Well… our scientists found the missing piece. After a few small-scale tests, we let recruiting know that we were looking for a very special sort of volunteer."

"You -" Tony spluttered for a moment. "Are you telling me you actually _did it?_ You made my father's super soldier? Out of a _real person?_ Jesus, Nick."

"He volunteered. But that's not the point. That's not why I'm telling you this. Your father left his work to SHIELD, I don't have to tell you at all."

Tony remained silent, trying to keep his roiling emotions under control.

"I'm telling you because there was a slight hiccough."

"That's what happens when you fuck with stuff you don't understand," Tony muttered under his breath.

Fury ignored him. "The man who volunteered, Steve Rogers, is a sub. We thought, well, we thought the process would change that."

Tony snorted. "Peak of human perfection…of course you thought that."

"Well, it didn't. He's still a sub. And, uh, the process - we warned him, but - it was very painful. He's…" Fury shrugged with a groan. "Look, there's no easy way to say this. The process was long and painful and it forced him into subspace, only, it's been two days and he hasn't come up yet. And he has no Dom to help him."

Tony laughed, unable to figure out how on earth else he was supposed to react to that. "Are you kidding me? How - you know what, that's - no. I'm speechless. You actually rendered Tony Stark speechless. Who knew that was possible? So if you're not telling me because it was my father's life's work, why are you telling me?"

Fury's lips pursed. He was uncomfortable, and normally that would make Tony more comfortable, but today, it was making him squirm. Fury took a folder out of a drawer in his desk and slid it across the wood surface. "He needs a Dom to bring him up gently. He's out of his mind, right now. His next of kin is a sub and isn't even in the country anyway. We looked through his history, and as far as we can tell, he's never had a contract."

"Why are you asking me?" Tony asked through gritted teeth, ignoring the folder.

"Because you're the only uncontracted Dom we could think of who has security clearance high enough to know about this. Also, you'll understand the science of what he went though. Might help."

"Bullshit." Tony picked up the folder and opened it. It was a temporary contract, Steve's full name filled in with careful, black lettering: _Steven Grant Rogers_. "You're asking me because you think I'll feel guilty that it was my dad's work that put this poor kid in this horrible situation. You think that'll sway me." Tony glared over the edge of the folder, but Nick didn't shrink back. He just held Tony's gaze. Tony tossed the contract back on the desk. "I won't sign anything. He can't consent."

"He's going to be in big trouble if someone doesn't take care of him soon. I -"

"I know. I'll help him. But I won't sign a contract, even a temporary one, because _he_ can't sign it, and I'm not entering an agreement with SHIELD. Either you trust me to take care of him or you don't."

Fury heaved out a sigh. "Legal says -"

"Legal can suck it. This is between you and me, Nick."

Fury deflated. Tony could see the exhaustion pinching his corners. "Fine. No contract. You help bring him up and that'll be it."

"Alright." Tony stood. Then he leaned forward, bracing one hand on the desk. "Just so you know, I'm not doing this for you, and I'm not doing this because I feel guilty that you were stupid enough to continue my father's cursed project. I'm doing this for the poor idiot that agreed to be your lab rat without possibly understanding what he was getting himself into."

Fury didn't try and stop him when Tony walked out.

**

Tony demanded that Hill take him to Rogers right away, not wanting to leave the guy in that state any longer than he had to be. He'd heard of subs going down for too long and the mental scars it could leave, but this was unprecedented. They didn't know what effect the serum would have on his subspace. If Tony couldn't get him to come up, he didn't know what other options SHIELD had. Maybe a medically induced coma - but there was no telling what state he'd be in when he woke up.

If he woke up.

Hill led Tony to a suite of rooms on a high-up floor he'd never visited before. She showed her badge to the three guards outside and they stepped aside. She typed in a code, turning her shoulder to block Tony's view of the pad, and Tony shook his head, smiling. Like he wouldn't be able to get in again if he wanted to. That was SHIELD's inevitable problem, focusing all their attention on the showy stuff and not thinking about the consequences of what they were doing.

She opened the door a crack then stepped back. "Do you need anything?"

"I shouldn't. But I'll let you know if I do."

She nodded and moved aside, letting Tony slip through the door. "There's food and water and basic supplies in there," she said. "Just knock if you need to talk to the guards."

"Got it." Tony pulled the door shut behind him.

The room wasn't large, just a simple bedroom with an attached bathroom. A queen bed was tucked against the far wall, next to a large dresser, and a man lay on the bed. He wasn't sleeping - his eyes were half-lidded but open, and fixed shakily on Tony.

"Hi," Tony started with. "Steve, right? I'm Tony."

Steve blinked, smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth then sighed, sending a shudder right down to his toes. Tony crossed the room quickly, shucking his suit jacket and tossing it over a chair. He rolled his sleeves up then sat on the edge of the bed. Steve blinked at him, and Tony could see how hazy and unfocused he was. He shivered again.

Tony reached out and gently rested his palm flat on Steve's forehead. He was freezing cold. Tony frowned at him. "I don't know what they tried already, but whatever it was, I'm sorry. I'm going to stay here with you until you're up, okay?"

Steve said nothing. Tony took a moment to really look at the man he'd been tasked with Domming. Peak of human perfection wasn't far off; Steve's body looked like it had been chiseled out of marble, muscles easing into more muscles, all tucked under smooth, pale skin. He had a sharp jaw and broad shoulders, should have screamed Dom with every inch of him, but the way he sighed under Tony's hands, the softness of his blue eyes and the gentle curve of his body on the sheets was all sub. Broken sub.

"God, they really fucked you over. Probably had no idea what you were getting into." Tony stroked his hand over Steve's forehead again and the lightest breeze of a smile wafted over Steve's face. "Alright. This is going to be a process. We're going to have to do this backwards." Even though Tony was pretty sure Steve had no idea what he was saying, he still felt the need to talk it though, explain everything. "We'll start with the aftercare you should have had, after a procedure like that, and work our way up from there. I don't know what will work, so you'll have to forgive me, I'm just flailing around in the dark here." Tony opened and closed cupboards until he found a stack of spare blankets. He pulled out two, a bit rough, but thick and warm.

Back on the bed, he let Command lace through his voice for the first time. "Steve. I need you to sit up. I'm going to sit behind you and hold you. Nod to show me you understand."

With visible effort, Steve processed what he was saying then, very slowly, shifted forward until he was almost sitting up. He nodded.

"Good boy."

Steve sucked in a sharp breath.

"Can you talk?"

Steve shook his head.

"Okay. You don't have to talk. I'm gonna talk, though, because that's what I do." Tony shook out the blankets and lay both of them over Steve. "My name is Tony Stark, and it's pretty much my dad's fault that you're here. They asked me to sign a temporary contract with you, but I didn't. I know you can't consent to any of this, but I don't really have a choice. I'm going to help you come up, and then I'm going to leave. If you have to be mad about this later, you can be mad at me. I'm tough, I can take it." Tony reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of Steve's eyes and Steve smiled again. "Sit up, Steve."

Steve tried to shift forward, and Tony tucked up behind him, sitting on his pillow with his back against the headboard. He eased Steve down until he was settled between Tony's legs, head on his chest. Tony kept smoothing his hair back. "They didn't even think about this," he muttered, "what this might do to you." He sighed then raised his voice, Command leaking back in. "I'm going to take care of you, Steve. And I'm sorry if it gets more personal than either of us wants with a stranger. I just need you to know that. Do you understand?" Tony eased Steve's head back and leaned over him to meet his eye. He looked confused, his brow creasing, and Tony stroked it smooth with his thumb. "Never mind. Do you feel okay?"

Steve nodded again, but it was more hesitant this time.

"I'm going to start by warming you up a bit." Tony ran his hands up and down Steve's arms, tucking the blanket in tighter where he could reach. Steve curled into the touch, snuggled down tight against Tony's chest. He'd never seen anything like this. It wasn't subdrop, not really, it was just deep, inescapable subspace. Tony's past partners had been more prone to the opposite problem - not being able to stay down - and the only times he'd heard of someone getting trapped in subspace, it had been because of drugs, not pain.

He couldn't imagine what Steve must have gone through. He'd seen his dad's plans, and he hoped that a modern SHIELD could do a better job of it, but it seemed, not better enough.

For a long time, Tony just held Steve, sharing his heat under the blankets until the tiny shivers stopped wracking Steve's body, until the tension eased out of Steve's new muscles and he settled his full weight against Tony. "That's better," Tony murmured. "Such a good boy for me."

Steve sucked in another sharp breath at the words.

"Hmm. Can't tell if that's a good gasp or a bad gasp." Tony rearranged Steve to be able to look him in the eyes. They were still barely open, barely present. "Do you like it when I tell you how good you are?"

A smile breezed across Steve's face again, and he dropped his hand from his lap to Tony's thigh where it pressed against his hip. He squeezed gently.

"Oh, good." Tony smiled too. "Because you are so good. So brave to volunteer for this, to survive what they put you through. And right now, you're mine. And I'm going to take care of you." Tony felt a thin thread of possession crawl up his spine and he tried to shake it away.

Steve's mouth opened and a soft hum drifted out, the first noise he'd made since Tony had entered the room. Tony couldn't help it; he bent over and pressed his lips softly to Steve's cheek. This man was plucking something deep inside him that reverberated through his core. He hadn't had a sub go down like this for him in… maybe ever. Tony dabbled in the superficial, didn't trust veracity, honesty, and it showed in his relationships. He could walk the walk, bring a sub to his knees, get them both off, but having Steve in his arms like this, open and trusting, was different. This was real.

Except that it wasn't. Steve wasn't down of his own accord, and Tony hadn't been the one to put him there. He was supposed to be bringing him back up, not wallowing selfishly in his beautiful submission.

"Alright, sweet thing," he murmured against Steve's temple, once Steve's skin no longer felt like ice. "We're going to start working you up now. I need you to sit up. Sit, Steve."

Steve huffed but creaked forward, off Tony's chest. Tony wriggled himself free, but when he moved to step away from the bed, Steve's hand snapped out and caught his. "Don't go," Steve slurred, the fear and desperation in his tone breaking Tony's heart. "Please."

"I'm not going." Tony crouched by the head of the bed and smoothed Steve's hair back again. "Sit up."

Steve sat up, all the way, this time, and Tony tucked pillows behind his back so he couldn't drift down again.

"I'm not going. I'm staying in this room. You have to trust me, okay?"

"Okay…"

Tony stood again and waited until Steve's fingers dropped away from his wrist. He went to the table in the corner and rummaged through the supplies left there until he found a bag of chopped fruit, some granola bars, and bottles of sports drink. He tossed them on the bed and sat at Steve's hip, taking him in.

Sitting up had improved his colour a bit, but he was still dramatically pale. His eyes were soft and glassy, still completely out of it, and his arms were limp at his sides. Tony felt a frisson of panic at the thought that he might not be able to do it, he might not be able to bring Steve up - and then what?

But he tamped it down, needing to radiate firm calm if he had any chance at all. "Open your mouth," he commanded.

Steve opened his mouth.

Tony uncapped a drink and poured a little in Steve's mouth, he swallowed, then parted his lips again, silently asking for more, and Tony obliged. They worked their way through the entire bottle, then Tony fed him a granola bar in small, careful bites. A bit of colour had flushed into Steve's cheeks. "There you go," Tony couldn't help but murmur. "Good job."

"Thank you," Steve whispered dopily, smiling again.

"Give me your hand," Tony instructed, holding his own out, palm flat. Steve lay his hand on top of Tony's, brow creasing with the effort. Tony didn't smooth away his consternation this time; Steve needed to start fighting the pull of the tide. "Good boy." He lay a piece of apple in Steve's palm. "Eat."

Steve frowned at the apple, but lifted it to his mouth and started eating. When he was done, Tony put a grape and a square of melon in next, forcing Steve to make a decision about which one to eat next. The choice earned him another, deeper frown, but Steve chewed his way through the melon, then the grape, then offered his hand to Tony again.

"Do you want more fruit?" Tony didn't move towards it.

"Uh." Steve blinked at him.

"Answer me," Tony commanded. "Do you want more fruit?"

"No…"

"Okay." Tony set it aside. "What do you want?" That might be too broad.

Steve chewed his lip for a moment, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. "I want to please you," he slurred. He smiled, that open, trusting, happy smile, and something in Tony's chest knotted up tight. He mentally shook himself. This was no different than any other sub at his feet. Tony was just… thrown off, because he hadn't been the one to bring Steve down. It was unusual, to say the least, to be handed a sub that deep down without being responsible for it. Tony also dealt in one-night-stands; he'd rarely seen a sub down this far at all. It took a lot of work to earn that level of submission.

Or a lot of pain…apparently.

Tony leaned forward and couldn't stop his hand from cupping Steve's jaw. "It would please me if you got up. You're not safe to shower, but we could clean you up a little and then maybe you'll be ready to sleep?" If Tony could get him up just a little higher, he'd probably conk right out if given the opportunity, and more often than not, a few hours sleep was enough to reset the sub hormones and bring him up safely. And besides, SHIELD had only asked Tony to bring him up, if he dropped after, it was hardly Tony's problem. He'd be long gone by then. It was hard to imagine Steve wouldn't drop, after what he'd been through. They were surely expecting it; probably had shrinks and Xanax on standby.

"Okay," Steve agreed, leaning into the touch.

Tony stood and guided Steve up to his feet with him, wrapping a firm arm around his waist. He lifted Steve's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles gently. Steve seemed like the kind of sub who responded well to gentle touch, and sure enough his smiled his dopey, endearing smile and leaned into Tony's side.

"Good job. Bathroom. Come on."

They crossed the room in a slow, careful shuffle, but Steve was putting weight on his own legs and his eyes were a bit more focused. Tony leaned him against the counter and used a warm washcloth to wipe his face. When he tugged on the hem of Steve's shirt, he lifted his arms obediently, and Tony pulled it off. Steve's chest was even more staggering than his arms, a glistening twelve-pack straining his skin with every breath, hairless and shiny with sweat.

Tony swallowed heavily and tamped down his own arousal, ignored the throb of claim that pumped with his heart. This wasn't about him, not in the slightest.

He cleaned Steve's chest, earning himself several happy sighs from the super soldier whose eyes had drifted shut again. Tony mentally crossed his fingers that Steve would go to sleep if given the opportunity.

He was wearing stiff khakis, and Tony unbuttoned them without hesitation. Steve let them be pulled off, standing in the bathroom in fitted, white boxer-briefs with a total stranger and zero modesty. He was starting to chill again, the air cooling his damp skin, and Tony took a soft towel and rubbed it over him then left it wrapped over his shoulders. "Here. Brush your teeth."

While Steve dopily scrubbed the brush over his teeth. Tony idly dug his fingers into his back, trying to work out the last of the tension that hid there. Steve spit, dropped his toothbrush then leaned back into Tony's touch, settling against his chest. Tony pressed his lips softly behind Steve's ear, and Steve's responding sigh settled low in Tony's stomach.

"Come on, sweet thing. Let's get you to sleep."

"Okay."

Back in the bedroom, Tony stripped off his own button-down, leaving himself in nothing but his undershirt, barely hiding the glow of the arc reactor. He tugged his belt free of the loops then eased Steve into bed. "I'm going to hold you and you're going to go to sleep, okay?"

Steve nodded. "Alright."

"So good for me," Tony murmured, checking his phone over Steve's shoulder. It really was getting late. He settled down in the centre of the bed and tucked Steve against his side, manhandling him until he was curled up, head on Tony's chest, just above the reactor, one arm slung over Tony's waist, knee hitched up to Tony's thigh. Tony scratched gentle fingers through his hair and closed his own eyes. A good sub would model breathing in a moment like this and Steve had proven himself a very good sub.

Tony focused carefully on his breathing, counting four in, four hold, four out, four hold. It was hard not to let his mind wander, but it wasn't long before he was rewarded by Steve copying the pattern, his chest expanding next to Tony's as they breathed in together. Tony kept whispering soft praise as Steve's muscles went lax, and he finally slipped off to sleep.

Tony worked on his phone for a few hours while Steve napped on his chest, but eventually, his eyes burned in the dark and the words started to blur together. He set his phone aside and shut his own eyes. He didn't sleep much these days, but it was also rare to have a night with a happy sub sprawled on his chest. Tony breathed deeply and turned his face into Steve's hair. He'd just take a short nap.

**

Tony woke when the weight against his chest shifted and moved away. He blinked his eyes open and propped himself up on one elbow to find Steve sitting up near the foot of the bed, staring down at his own hands, resting in his lap. "Steve… are you okay?"

Steve worked his mouth open and closed for a moment, licking his lips. "Maybe…"

He was a hundred times more lucid than Tony had ever seen him. Perhaps not all the way up, but back in control. Tony slipped out of bed and pulled his shirt back on, buttoning it over the soft glow of the reactor. He opened his mouth to speak, but Steve beat him to it.

"I look completely different."

And, oh, of course. This was the first time Steve was really seeing himself since the serum processed. "Congratulations," Tony muttered, a hot flash of unexpected anger making him flinch back from himself. "I mean… it worked. You got what you wanted."

Steve rustled on the sheets, and Tony turned to see him watching Tony carefully. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Dom they called in to help you. The process put you deep down and you couldn't come up. They didn't have anyone listed on your forms so they asked me. I know that's a violation and I'm sorry, but there really wasn't a choice."

"Oh. No, no, I understand." Steve shifted where he sat, something like resignation weighing his shoulders down. "I mean, I signed my body over to you, figured that would include everything, so, no, I don't really think it is. A violation, I mean. SHIELD owns me." His voice was flat.

Tony swallowed heavily. "I'm not with SHIELD."

Steve's eyes snapped back up to him. "What?"

"I mean, I'm only sort of tangentially with SHIELD… that came out weird. I'm a contractor. I'm not a professional Dom, or something, if that's what you thought. My father created the super serum. Project Rebirth was his idea."

Steve blinked. "Oh. You're Tony Stark."

"Yes."

"Why on earth did they ask you?"

Tony couldn't tell if that had come out accusatory or just confused. "I'm an uncontracted Dom with very high security clearance." He paused. "But that's not why. They asked for two reasons, because they thought I'd feel guilty that it was my father's work that did this to you, and because they didn't want it getting out that they're experimenting like this on a person. They couldn't bring in a professional Dom for that, no one would agree to work under these circumstances."

"But you did…"

Tony started weaving his belt back through the loops. "Yes. Because I was afraid of what would happen to you if I didn't. Fury was desperate, asking me. I couldn't let a sub suffer like that, knowing I could help." He latched his belt and turned, examining Steve carefully. "Are you safe?"

"Pardon?"

"Are you safe now? If I leave, are you going to be okay? I've never seen someone down so hard. We've been here for about seven hours."

"Oh. Wow." Steve uncurled and stepped off the bed, apparently unbothered by his near-nudity. He stretched and looked down at himself. "I'm taller."

Tony couldn't stop the small smile that curled up the corners of his lips. "Apparently."

Steve stroked flat palms down his rippling stomach. "Huh." His cheeks pinked, and Tony wondered at the oddity of suddenly being in a body you found attractive. Steve turned and found his sweatpants on the floor, he pulled them on then looked down at his feet, wiggling his toes. "Okay."

"Are you safe?" Tony asked again, softer.

"Oh. Sorry. Yes, I guess so. I feel... " he flexed his fingers. "With it. Mostly."

"Alright. Good. I'm going to go." Tony tugged on his suit jacket and made sure he had his phone and wallet in his pocket. He paused by the door. "Steve? They don't own you. They want to make it feel like that, but they don't. You can still say no. They're going to want to poke and prod and make you run on a treadmill and turn and cough and all that. You can say no, if you're not ready. All their precious answers are in your body, now. You have all the power."

Tension rippled across Steve's shoulders, wide eyes glued to Tony's. "Okay," he said slowly.

"Okay," Tony echoed, firmer. "Goodbye."

Steve didn't say anything as Tony slipped out the door and closed it behind him. Something in Tony's chest twisted and pulled, yearning back towards the other room, but he marched away, stretching it until it snapped. He'd done his duty, and now it was time to go.

It wasn't like Steve was actually his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this oneshot turned into a seven chapter plan ahaha. I'll be updating the tags as I go. Thanks for reading!

Tony poked his pen into the spinning wireframe in front of him. The hologram twisted under his onslaught then popped back into shape. "Try running it backwards," he mused.

JARVIS flipped the wireframe and ran the simulation again. It was even worse.

"Never mind." Tony waved it away and it burst into a million tiny particles then disappeared. Building the Iron Man armour hadn't exactly been easy, but it had been straightforward. The original plan had flowed into his brain, born out of necessity, but now trying to optimize it was more of a struggle. 

Portability was key. The armour was big and clunky and slow to put on. He needed to streamline the process. The suitcase had been a breakthrough, but he couldn't walk around with a suitcase cuffed to his wrist all the damn time. He needed the suit to be stored somewhere easier to carry… or come to him when he called…

"JARVIS… can we make some of these pieces self-propelled? And how few pieces can we get this into?"

"I'll run the options, sir."

Tony leaned forward and watched the screen flash through the various options. It was doable, then. The suit could charge itself in the workshop, store just enough energy to get itself where it needed to go - a couple thousand miles was enough to rescue Tony from pretty much anywhere - then it could charge itself again from the reactor when he was wearing it and hold enough to go back where it came from. "Hmmm. We'd need a way to call it. A tracker of some sort. Something on my phone?"

"Perhaps something a little less obvious, sir? If you were to be captured…"

"Fair enough. Eventually, something subdermal would be preferable, but let's stay clear of injectables until we know it works. So a simple GPS tracking unit using my private satellites - let's start with a watchband - and then the suit… Should it travel as a unit? Actually…" Tony tapped a finger against the glass surface of the desk. "We could control it remotely that way." He shook his head. "One thing at a time, Stark." He peeled off his t-shirt and rolled out his shoulders. "J, you get started on the plans, I'm going to build a prototype watchband."

"Yes, sir."

Five hours later, Tony had a thin metal band in his hand, containing just enough tech to send a GPS signal that the suit would be able to find. JARVIS had laid out plans for a new modular suit that could form as one self-propelled unit or break down into individual pieces. Tony reviewed everything, making tweaks and changes, then set the fabricator churning away. 

Just as he was leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms out and wondering if he should order a sub from his Subscene account that night or just get pizza and watch a movie, the phone rang.

"It's Ms. Potts, sir."

Tony waved a hand and the phone picked up. "Tony?"

"Hey, Potts. How's tricks?"

Pepper sighed. "I was just talking to Jones and he said the merger was at risk."

"Shit." Tony rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay, I'll come in to the office."

"Thanks, Tony."

"I hate that asshole."

"Everyone does." There was a significant pause. "You okay? I feel like I haven't heard from you much lately."

"Yeah…" Tony spun the new Iron Man summoning bracelet around his fingers. "Just - you know."

"Working on Iron Man."

"Yeah."

"As long as you're also taking care of yourself."

Tony snorted. "When have you ever known me to take care of myself, Pep?"

But later that night, after several hours of negotiating at the office and a skin-strippingly hot shower, Pepper's words wormed back into Tony's mind, and instead of going back down to the workshop, he opened the Subscene app on his phone and scrolled through his options for the evening. He could go to a club and pick up a sub there, but the service was fast and easy, and he'd had nothing but positive experiences with it so far. The subs were eager and well behaved, and Tony could list his preferences straight up so they wouldn't be expecting anything he couldn't give.

An hour later, the doorbell rang, and Tony opened the door to find a pretty, sweet-looking sub leaning against the far wall of the hallway, hands tucked behind her back and eyes lowered. She smiled at him enticingly from behind a curtain of long, blonde hair. 

Tony smiled and pulled the door all the way open. "Come in."

**

Tony leaned back against the headboard and watched the sub at his feet stretch and sigh. He'd had to bring this new sub - Randall? Ralph? - up a little faster than he liked, but they were running short on time, tonight. Still, the haze was gone from the sub's eyes, nothing but a soft happiness in its place, and he moved easily and freely without the gelatinous weight of subspace wrapped around him. "Are you safe?" Tony asked, and the guy turned to smile at him.

"I'm good. That was amazing, thank you."

Tony hummed in agreement then waved a hand imperiously, reaching for his tablet and glasses on the side table. It'd been two months since he started his tracker bracelets project, and he had testing to simulate. Once those ran cleanly, he'd be trying it out in the field. "You can go."

The sub rolled off the bed and started collecting his clothes, tugging black silk boxers over his spent cock. Half-dressed, he paused. "You sure I can't do anything for you, sir?"

Tony peered at him over the frame of his glasses. "Uh, Randy, was it?"

He coughed, smiling. "Jeffery, sir."

Close enough. "Right. Jeffery. No, I'm good. If you're safe, you can go."

"Okay. Thank you, sir." He still wasn't leaving. Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "I just wanted you to know, in case you didn't, that I do offer contracts. I mean, I'm open to a contract. If that's something you're interested in. Sir."

"It's not." Tony did his best not to snap.

"Alright. Goodnight." Jeffery pulled on his sweater and hopped out of the room, tugging on his shoes.

Tony watched him go, tapping a fingertip against the case of his tablet. The front door clicked closed. "J, call Rhodey."

It was four rings before Rhodey picked up. "Rhodes."

"Hey, sugarplum."

"Tony! Long time no talk. How are you, man?"

"Naked and sweaty."

"I'll take, ‘Things I Didn't Need to Hear,’ for five hundred, Alex."

"I ordered a sub from the service, and he fucking asked for a contract."

Rhodey sighed, and Tony tossed his glasses on the side table and rubbed his hands over his face. He tipped sideways on the bed.  Rhodey's voice went soft and careful. "It's not unusual, after a good session, Tony."

"I know." He gritted his teeth together.

"He wasn't trying to -"

"I  _ know."  _ Tony huffed out a sigh. "I know it's normal, I know they don't know what they're doing, but I just wish it wasn't such a default reaction."

"I'm sorry." Rhodey hummed sympathetically, and really, that was all Tony had wanted. Someone who understood. "Was he good at least?"

"Yeah, yeah he was really good."

Awkward silence fell. Tony knew it was shitty to always run to Rhodey, just because he understood, but he couldn't help himself. Rhodey kept the panic at bay. 

"How's work?" Rhodey did a deft about-turn.

Tony rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "Unengaging. All I can think about is Iron Man."

"And how's that going?"

"I know I can make it better - faster, more agile - but it's fighting me."

"You'll get there." Silence fell again but it was more comfortable this time.

"When are you coming home next?" Tony asked.

"Next month. It's already in your schedule."

"Nice. Don't get shot or something, out there."

"I won't, Tones."

"I know…"

"Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"You know it's like one in the morning, right?"

"Oh." Tony lifted the tablet he'd discarded and looked at the clock. "Well, you're not wrong."

"I'm going to go to sleep now."

"Sure."

The rush of discomfort that Jeffery had welled up with his question had faded again in the face of Rhodey's comforting voice, and Tony hung up and curled under the covers, feeling the pull of sleep almost immediately. 

Energized by last night's session, Tony immediately dove back into work the next morning and didn't resurface for two days, when Pepper dragged him up out of the workshop to have dinner. 

"It'll be good for the company and good for you, too," she insisted, around a mouthful of sweet and sour pork.

Tony shrugged. Giving up control of the company meant he no longer had to think about what PR was good for them much anymore, and he found he enjoyed it more than he'd expected. His mind was still half down in the workshop thinking about the completed prototype and trying to plan the best way to test it out. It had taken "I know, I know."

"We'll make a statement, let everyone know the tower is on arc reactor power now. It'll be nice to have positive press for onc-"

"Sir, you have a call on the priority line."

**

Seven hours later, Tony was in the suit and headed for Stuttgart. There were times that Tony found his overclocked mind frustrating to live with. There were times when he wished he didn't always have seven hundred brain-tabs open because he wanted to focus on just one thing, but he couldn't seem to narrow in like that, unless he was deep in a building project or having a session with a particularly good sub.

And speaking of subs, there was one in particular that he couldn't seem to get out of his mind right now, the part that wasn't busy obsessing about Loki and the tesseract.

He had thought he'd never see Steve Rogers again, after their afternoon spent together in SHIELD's secret dorm rooms. And yet, this team Fury had been teasing Tony with for months, the Avengers Initiative, seemed to have been Steve's planned final destination all this time. Tony re-read the file Coulson had brought him, watching the words fly across his HUD while he blasted over the Atlantic.

Captain America. That's what they'd named him. Plucked right out of Howard's files and now in the flesh - Tony still couldn't get his mind wrapped around that. He was expected to fight side by side with him. And it wasn't like there was anything wrong with  _ Steve.  _ He'd been soft and sweet in the few hours Tony had known him, polite and understanding afterwards. He seemed like a good man, but  _ Captain America  _ was an anvil that had been hanging over Tony's head his whole life. His father's failed project, one Tony hadn't decided to take up when he'd taken over. Maybe Howard had predicted that, and that was why he'd left so much of his work to SHIELD instead of Tony, instead of to SI. 

A crowd of people on their knees came into view, Doms and subs alike bent to the floor, and Loki standing over them, locked in battle with the man Tony had once held in his arms, now dressed in colourful armour and carrying a vibranium shield. 

Tony came in hot, firing his repulsors and crashing onto the cobblestones. "Make your move, reindeer games."

**

There wasn't much time to consider how Steve might feel about Tony being there, but if he was bothered, he didn't show it. Thor arrived up, unannounced and uninvited, but eventually they had everyone back at the helicarrier. Tony packed his armour away in the hold, thinking longly of his new bracelets back at the tower. He hadn't had a chance to test them, but this mission was making him antsy, and the comfort of near-instantaneous protection would have been nice. 

It went downhill from there.

The air in the lab was somehow hot and pressing, even with the a/c swearing up and down that it was on full blast. Tony itched his way around the room, snapping at the computer screens when they failed to react the way he wanted. He tried to be calm for Bruce's sake, but when Steve showed up with a self-righteous set to his jaw and tried to act like he and Tony had never  met, it pushed Tony over the edge. 

"Everything special about you came out of a bottle," Tony snapped. "Even your codename is based on a stupid joke my dad made." 

To his surprise, Steve gave as good as he got. "You're not the one to make the sacrifice play."

"How much does it burn that the serum didn't make you a Dom? I know that's what everyone thought was going to happen." It was like there was a voice whispering in his ear, telling him what to say. 

"Put on the suit and we'll see who ends up on their knees," Steve growled, the noise drawing an echoing rumble out of Tony. Rage flared up and he was just about to surge forward - fuck the suit - and make Steve submit, when the helicarrier listed violently to the side and sent everyone sprawling on the ground.

Tony looked up from where he'd slammed into the doorway, and Steve was right there, eyes wide and pained. "Put on the suit -" he gasped, almost desperately. 

The devil on Tony's shoulder was gone and his voice was his own again. "Yup!"

**

Tony died.

He closed his eyes, felt his lungs draw in oxygen-less air and was sure he would never wake again.

Instead, he shocked awake to a ground-shaking roar, and Steve Rogers' concerned gaze pinning him to the floor, along with two hundred plus pounds of gold titanium alloy.

So Tony looked up at the sky that had nearly swallowed him whole, took a breath, let it out, and asked, "Shawarma?"

The shawarma shop turned out to be more than happy to serve them, despite the floor being a mess of debris blown in from outside. At the sight of the destruction, they'd all turned to go, but the owner refused to let them leave unfed, and they'd shoved some tables together and crowded chairs around it while he cooked.  

As soon as they sat down with food in hand, exhaustion set in. Tony could see it ripple around the table, and what had seemed like a good way to get to know his new teammates, turned into a group half-nap/half-eat. The food was good, but Tony could barely taste it. Clint and Natasha keep tipping in towards each other like the might pass out. Steve rested his cheek against his fist and shoveled pita in his mouth like it was his patriotic duty. 

Still, the food settled Tony down, helping equalize the mad cocktail of chemicals pumping through his veins after his journey to space - and perhaps miniature cardiac arrest. When his plate was empty, he tossed his napkin aside and sat back in his chair. "So. Where is everyone headed?"

"I must go back to the helicarrier to guard my brother. I'm sure he has not yet used up the last trick he keeps up his sleeves. It's best I don't leave him in the care of SHIELD for too long."

"Good point. Super spies? Brucey? Cap?"

Everyone shared uncertain glances. 

"Well, don't worry about it. If you need a ride back to the helicarrier, I can provide that - I'm sure the wait for the bus is brutal right now - or if you'd rather come back to my place and crash there, you're all welcome." Tony stood to go to the counter and pay, letting the others discuss their plans. The shop owner tried to refuse payment, so Tony settled on stuffing the entire contents of his wallet billfold into the tip jar, brushing away the man's profuse thanks. When he turned to leave, the others had cleaned the table and slipped out to the sidewalk, everyone except Steve.

Steve followed Tony out the other door. "Hey, Stark?"

Tony stopped and turned, peering over his sunglasses at Steve, who stood tall and crossed his hands behind his back, stiff and waiting. "Yes?" Tony offered.

Steve softened a bit, his voice dropping lower, and he took a tentative step forward. "I just - it wasn't the time, out there, but I wanted to thank you. I was pretty out of it when I saw you last, right after Rebirth, but I remember it all. Everything." His jaw tightened slightly. "Anyway… I didn't thank you back then. I'm glad I got my chance now.  _ Thank you. _ You probably saved my life."

Tony resisted the urge to fidget. He waved a hand imperiously, glancing up the street to make sure the others were far enough away that they couldn't hear. "Couldn't leave you there to rot in subspace, Rogers. It was nothing."

"Not to me, it wasn't."

"Okay, well -" Tony cleared his throat.

"And that stuff we said back on the helicarrier -"

"Loki. The sceptre. That's all."

"Yes, exactly. That's all I wanted to say." Steve relaxed from his parade rest and turned towards the others again.

"Good," Tony muttered under his breath. 

Thor went back to Loki's holding cell on the helicarrier to keep him contained until they could return him to Asgard. To Tony's surprise, everyone else took him up on his offer to crash at the tower. JARVIS directed them each to a suite, popping them out of the elevator one by one until Tony was left alone with Steve. 

He expected Steve to say something, try to thank him again or bring up their previous meeting, but Steve just kept his eyes on the floor, thumbs hooked in his belt, and waited until the elevator slowed and JARVIS said,  "Captain, your room."

Steve nodded in Tony's direction once then stepped out. Tony rode up to the penthouse in silence. 

Broken glass crunched under his feet, and Tony sighed as he looked at the remains of his ruined home. "How bad is it, J?"

"I estimate it will take approximately three months to repair the damage to the tower."

Tony kicked a broken picture frame then turned and walked towards the bedroom. "Yeah, alright. Start throwing together some plans and order the basic clean up. I'm going to the guest suite."

Tony grabbed some clothes and his favourite towel and took the stairs down a level to the suite Rhodey stayed in when he visited. He took a very long, very hot shower then stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave and turned on the Thunders game. It was almost too normal, but he was determined to push through the edge of panic that chased him around the room and darted out from behind the furniture. Sure, an alien race had just plowed into the city, and he'd sort of gone to space, and maybe a little bit died, but Jesse Karman was still missing every single three pointer he went for, so all was well with the world.

Tony stood behind the couch while the microwave hummed, shoving handfuls of shredded cheese in his mouth and glaring at his team mill about uselessly on the massive flat screen. "It goes  _ in  _ the basket, not near it!"

A sharp knock on the door interrupted his rant, and Tony shifted towards it, eyes still glued on the screen.

" _ De _ fense!" he shouted, then he turned and wrenched the door open. His, "What?" died on his lips at the sight in front of him.

Steve was in the hall outside his door, one hand braced on either side of the frame. He was shaking violently from heat to foot, shivering, and there was a sheen of sweat across his brow. His lips were pale, almost blue, and his eyes were bloodshot. "Tony," he croaked.

"Jesus Christ, Steve, what's wrong?"

"Please, I need your help," Steve begged, seeming to fold in on himself as his arms gave under his weight. "I need you take me down."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mentions of noncon (nothing described graphically)
> 
> Thanks to the MCU discord for help with brainstorming!

"I saw you two hours ago and you were fine, what happened?" Tony froze in the doorway, not sure if he would need to reach out and catch Steve to stop him from falling.

"I - I tried to sleep," Steve groaned. "But I can't. I need - Tony, I need -"

Tony knew what he needed. "So you came to me?"

Steve slumped further down. "There's no one else. I thought - I thought I was fine, but then…"

"It's been four months since then. How have you not signed a Dom? You've had all this time. Don't you have someone you can go to?"

Steve shook his head slowly. "There's no one I trust."

"You trust me?" Tony's voice came out more shakily than he intended. Whenever he'd thought back on his time with Steve, it was with discomfort. He'd done what he'd done without Steve's permission and it never sat well. But Steve -

Steve sunk to his knees in the hallway and folded his hands in his lap. He rolled his eyes up from the floor to meet Tony's, bright and desperate through too-long lashes. "You were good to me," he said simply, and Tony broke.

"Get up. Come inside." He stepped back, and Steve scrambled to his feet and followed him in, still visibly shaking. JARVIS muted the TV as Steve leaned against the back of the couch. Tony couldn't leave him in this state and the only way to get him out of it was to bring him down and up again. Four months - really? Most subs needed to go down at least twice a month and with the serum enhancements, Tony would have expected Steve to need it more, not less, with his body running in quadruple-time. "Okay. Alright. We're doing this so you don't pass out on my carpet, and then we're going to talk." He stepped forward and cupped Steve's jaw, bringing his eyes up so Tony could catch his unsteady gaze and hold it. "I'm going to take care of you, okay?"

Steve nodded gratefully. "Okay. Thank you."

"Take off your shirt, shoes, socks, and pants and kneel in front of the couch."

While Steve rushed to obey, Tony took a moment to settle himself. The Dom in him roared at the state Steve was in. Denying himself like that for so long was bad enough for a regular sub, but the serum seemed to make everything stronger for Steve. He looked like he had when he was in too-deep subspace, chilled and shaky, but frantic this time instead of calm, needy instead of dopey.

Tony shook out his arms, rolled his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He hadn't planned on having a sub tonight, but it wasn't like he couldn't enjoy it. Steve's submission was beautiful and there was a part of him deep down inside that had been aching to see him go down since the first time, desperate to watch him sink instead of just be the one to pull him up at the end. "Start a scene, J," he said softly. The lights dimmed slightly, the doors locked, and the heater _click clicked_ as it rumbled to life.

Tony took off his sweater, leaving himself in his undershirt and sat on the couch in front of where Steve kneeled. "What's your safeword?"

"Valkyrie," Steve said without hesitation, eyes still fixed on the carpet.

"If you ever feel uncomfortable or uncertain, you have to say your word. I'll stop what I'm doing. It doesn't mean the scene has to end, we'll just figure out what's going wrong and fix it. A safeword isn't a failure - got it?"

Steve nodded. "Yes."

"Do you promise to safeword if you feel uncomfortable or uncertain?"

"I do."

"Okay. Good boy." Tony reached out and brushed Steve's hair back from his face. "This isn't going to be sexual, and I'm not going to give you pain. But I'm going to bring you down and bring you back up again, and I promise I'll stay here with you the whole time, okay?"

"Okay." Steve shuddered and licked his lips. "Thank you."

"Alright." Tony snapped Command into his voice. "Sit back and hold your arms out."

Steve moved immediately, gazing up adoringly at Tony as he assumed that position. Tony reached out and dug around on the coffee table until he came up with one of his hologram tablets. He had Steve shuffle forward until he was settled between his spread legs then laid the tablet flat and faceup on Steve's outstretched arms. "Good, Don't move. I have work to do."

"Yes, sir," Steve said easily, and Tony flinched. It didn't sound right coming out of Steve's mouth. The subs from the service called Tony sir, begged to be whipped, sucked him off and then walked out, never to be seen again. But it wasn't like that with Steve, wasn't going to be like that. He was doing him a favour. Why - he still didn't know. But Steve was part of the team, and Tony couldn't stand to see him suffer.

"Tony."

"Pardon?" Steve looked up from the tablet in his arms to try and blink his focus onto Tony. He looked hazy already.

"Call me Tony. Not sir."

"Oh. Okay. Yes, Tony."

"Good job. Thank you. Now be still."

Steve froze. It was eerie, how still he could be, but it seemed to be another side effect of the serum. Tony tapped the screen in Steve's arms and a hologram wireframe popped up above it. Steve didn't move, but his eyes went wide, fixed on the spinning, blue shape in front of him.

"I'm going to tell you numbers and you're going to remember them," Tony Commanded. "If I reach the limit of how many you can remember, you'll tell me."

"Yes, Tony." Steve nodded.

"Okay. Good boy." And Tony started to work. At the places when he'd normally get JARVIS to take notes, he listed the measurements for Steve instead. Steve mouthed each one to himself then nodded, and though the list got longer and longer, he never called uncle.

He slipped down oh so easily, and oh so prettily. He knelt perfectly still, arms never dropping or shaking, and Tony watched the soft haze of subspace creep in and wrap around him. The blue tinge to his lips flushed to a bright pink, his cheeks earning a dusting too, and the tension bled out of his shoulders.

After forty-five minutes, Tony paused. "Are you down?"

"Yes…" Steve slurred, a smile ghosting across his lips.

"Ah, look at you, sweet thing." Tony plucked the tablet out of his hold, but Steve kept his arms up. "What were the numbers I told you?"

Steve rattled them off with perfect accuracy, confirmed by JARVIS' soft, "That is correct, sir."

Tony stroked his thumb across Steve's cheek with one hand and gently lowered his arms back to his sides with the other. "What a good boy you are. You're being exactly what I want." Steve hummed lightly, and the fire that had lit itself during their first time together flickered back to life. Tony had successfully stomped it out before, but now the flames were licking at him again, whispering _mine._

"I'm going to give you a list of instructions and you're going to follow them all, okay?"

Steve nodded. "Yes, Tony." He was clearly down pretty far now, soft and easy, open and generous, but Tony wanted him down a little deeper.

"I'm going to give you a series of instructions, all at once, and you're going to follow them exactly." When Steve nodded, eyes up and fixed on him, Tony went on. "In the closet by the bathroom there's a small, green basin. You're going to take that and two washcloths from the stack and go into the bathroom. You're going to run the water until it's hot, but not painful. There are three bottles on the edge of the tub - choose one and add a bit to the water to make it bubbly. Then you're going to take the basin and the washcloths and bring them - very carefully - out here to me. Okay?"

Steve nodded again. "Yes, Tony."

Tony shooed him away with his hand and Steve scurried off, nearly tripping over his feet in his hurry to obey. Tony leaned back on the couch and let out a long, slow breath. He couldn't deny that it felt unbelievably good to have Steve at his feet. His skin felt warm and tingly as he sunk fully into the precious feeling that came with taking a good sub down. He got it from the subs he ordered through the service, of course he did, but this was deeper, stronger, more potent. It was partially because he knew Steve, and partially because Steve was _so good._ Tony couldn't remember ever having a sub so eager and so trusting - and Steve had so many reasons to be untrusting. But he gave everything to Tony, didn't question, didn't fuss. There was no paperwork of clicking of boxes on a phone screen. Easy. Unpressured. Tony felt something in him release.

Steve came back a few minutes later, carefully cradling the basin in his arms. He set it on the floor then knelt beside it. Tony offered him his foot. "Take off my shoe and sock, roll my pants up tightly to my knee."

Steve obeyed, and Tony watched, struck, as Steve's fingers deftly untied his shoelaces. All of Steve's focus was on removing the shoe, so Tony was able to observe him without Steve noticing. His eyes were fixed on Tony's foot, but they still had the hazy sheen over them that came from subspace. A light flush coloured his cheeks, down his neck and across his chest. He was as beautiful as he'd been that night at SHIELD - more so now, now that he'd lived in his new skin for a little while. A single throb low in his gut had Tony snapping his gaze away from Steve and locking it to the TV. That - that was not a good idea. They couldn't bring sex into this. They shouldn't even be bringing a scene into this. But Steve was in danger - again - and Tony didn't have time to figure it out. So he'd bring him down and back up, then tell him he needed another Dom, one who could see to all his needs, whatever they may be.

Tony took a few breaths, focusing on calming his body, then shifted his attention back to Steve as his shoe was wiggled off. Steve peeled his sock of after, easing it gently around Tony's heel then setting it aside with his shoe. Steve looked up at Tony eagerly, a soft smile ghosting around his lips.

"You feel good?" Tony couldn't help but ask.

Steve nodded. "Amazing." He was already slurring.

"Alright. You're going to wash my feet. And don't splash on the hardwood."

"Yes, Tony."

Tony lowered his foot into the basin and sighed with pleasure as the warm water swirled over his skin. God - he hadn't had a sub do this in ages. Lately, it'd mostly been dropping them to their knees, fucking their faces, then easing them back up in time for the Subscene alarm to go off, but this - he missed this. Steve beamed down at Tony's feet, eyes bright and his tongue peeking out between his teeth. He dipped the washcloth in the water and started at Tony's ankle, scrubbing gently as he worked his way down. Steve's palm cupped Tony's heel under the water, turning his foot gently right and left.

Tony thought he might have to guide him, not sure what Steve's experience with this kind of submission would be, but Steve was right in his element. He washed every inch of Tony's foot, cleaning out carefully between the toes, rubbing his fingers into the sole and using a hint of supersoldier strength to work out the knots he found there. Tony drifted into bliss, arousal forgotten, stress forgotten. He had a beautiful, talented, giving sub at his feet and that was all he'd ever need.

When both of Tony's feet were clean, Steve took the basin back to the bathroom and returned with a towel, warm from the rack JARVIS must have turned on. He rubbed it over Tony's feet until they were dry then dropped his hands to his lap. Tony turned on the couch, lying lengthways, then gestured Steve up. "Come here"

He felt split open and exposed when Steve crawled up on the couch, long lines tucked between Tony's body and the couch back. Tony lifted an arm and eased Steve under it, letting the other one hang off the side of the couch.

"Just be still," Tony whispered into his hair, then mouthed, _twenty minutes,_ at the ceiling. JARVIS started a countdown in the corner of the TV screen. Tony tried to take his own advice, closing his eyes and focusing on slow, careful breathing. Steve matched his rhythm quickly this time, his chest pressing against Tony's ribs as it expanded. His head was pillowed on Tony's chest, and Tony couldn't resist curling his fingers up through Steve's hair and petting lightly.

The twenty minutes flew by and JARVIS flashed the 00:00 on the screen until Tony nodded. The thought of moving Steve - who wasn't asleep but was completely boneless and blissed out - ached, but he had no choice. They couldn't stay like this forever, and the longer they lay here, the harder it was going to be to move, to bring Steve up. He owed Steve an easy rise after last time, too. It was too risky to push it and leave him down too long.

"Sweet thing? Time to get up." Tony rubbed his hand firmly down Steve's side and felt him shudder under the touch.

"'K -" Steve smacked his mouth opened and closed.

Tony eased him up to a sitting position and followed after, curling his legs under himself. He looked into Steve's eyes and frowned. He was deep - really deep. "You okay?"

 _"Amazing,"_ Steve breathed. "How -?" He shook his head lightly. "Amazing."

Tony chuckled. "Okay, I'm glad. It's time to come up though, okay?"

Steve pouted and it was all Tony could do not to burst out laughing. Captain America had no right to look so adorable.

Usually, Tony used a method he'd learned a long time ago to bring his subs up. He asked a series of more and more detailed and specific questions that involved making choices. The focus on freedom of choice would inch them closer to the surface until they broke through. But Tony also knew that most of his subs didn't go down very deeply; it wasn't safe with a stranger.

Tony stood to go to the kitchen, and Steve convulsed on the couch, lurching towards him. "Wai -"

Tony stilled. "You okay?"

"Don't leave me," Steve begged.

"I won't." Tony curled back on the couch and cupped Steve's cheek. "I was going to go to the kitchen. Do you want to come with me?"

Steve puzzled over the question for a moment then nodded.

"Come on, then." Tony made his way to the kitchen, and Steve padded after him, staying close enough that their shoulders brushed. Tony asked JARVIS to turn on the kettle then lay an assortment of teas across the counter. "Pick," he directed lightly.

Steve examined them one by one, and Tony saw a little spark come back to life in his eyes. That flicker could slowly be stoked back into Steve's normal fire or it could be extinguished. Tony had to be careful. Steve lifted a box.

"Which one is that?"

"Earl gray."

"Good choice. Which one do you think I should have?"

Steve preened under the praise for a moment then considered the array again. "Chamomile."

Tony smiled. "Why's that?"

"You don't sleep enough." Steve shot him a dopey smile.

Tony laughed. "Why do you think that? You barely know me."

Steve shrugged. "I can tell. You were up all night with the - uh -" His brain seemed to abandon him for a moment and he wobbled, waving a hand vaguely. Tony took his arm and steadied him against the counter. "Thing."

"Well… you're not wrong. Do you want cookies with your tea? Or chocolate?"

"I don't know." Steve hazed over again, sinking down, and Tony snapped his fingers sharply.

"You need to choose."

He could see the force of will it took for Steve to process the question. "Um. Chocolate."

"Good boy," Tony soothed, relaxing his grip on Steve's arm and petting a little.

When the tea was ready, Tony handed Steve their mugs then dug a bar of dark chocolate out of the cupboard and led them both back to the couch. He sat Steve down with a careful foot of space between them and urged him to sip his tea. Tony started by breaking off small pieces of chocolate and dropping them on Steve's proffered tongue, then moved to handing them to him, then eventually gave him the whole bar and watched as he broke off the squares and sucked them away to nothing.

Seeing Steve come up was different this time. The edge of fear was gone - fear for Steve's wellbeing, fear over what SHIELD might do with a supersoldier. They were safe in Tony's tower and he was confident Steve would come up just fine. But that safety also made it more difficult in other ways. The soft hum of possession that had welled up last time was roaring now, desperate to claim Steve and make him _mine mine mine._ Tony swallowed heavily and focused on his own "coming up" routine. He took long steading breaths and shifted farther and farther from Steve on the couch.

Eventually, Steve relaxed back on the cushions and let out a happy sigh. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

"Are you safe?" Tony asked.

Steve nodded. He sat quietly for a moment longer then stood and started to collect his clothes while Tony gathered up their mugs and the chocolate wrappers. "You really need to get this sorted," Tony said casually, dumping the mugs in the sink. "Captain America can't be getting subsick in the middle of battle. If you're having trouble figuring out how to use a service, I can help you. Subscene is your best option and I can help you get a premium subscription."

Steve didn't answer so after a moment of silence, Tony looked up from the boxes of tea he was slotting into the cupboard. Steve was standing at the edge of the kitchen, shirt clutched in his hands, looking like Tony had a gun pointed at him and he was resigned to taking the hit. "Steve?"

"I can't."

"What?"

"I can't use a service. I - I can't sign up and…" He squeezed his shirt between his hands. "I'd have to go through SHIELD," Steve explained, after a moment, steadier. "They own me, completely. If I need a Dom, I'd have to ask them to provide one. It's in my contract with them."

"Okay, well… isn't that one of the benefits of being owned by a giant, shady, government organization?" The old anger was welling up again, and Tony didn't want to ruin the peace they'd both found during the scene, but it was too late now. "Just ask them and they'll take care of it for you."

"I can't…" Steve cleared his throat heavily and pulled his shirt on, avoiding Tony's eye. But Tony just waited, walking around to move between Steve and the door. "They won't sign me up for the service. They'll get me a Dom internally. It's okay. I - I won't ask you again. I'll… I'll think of something."

Tony quirked an eyebrow. "Fury told me there are no uncontracted Doms with high enough security clearance."

"There's at least one," Steve muttered. "And now that Captain America is publicly known, they could probably drop the clearance a bit. My Dom wouldn't have to know all the details."

"They should," Tony snapped. He crossed the room again and gestured Steve back down on the couch. His eyes cut to the door, but he followed Tony. "How do you know there's at least one?" There was a sinking dread in Tony's stomach, his genius mind skipping several steps ahead and not liking the conclusions it came to.

Steve hesitated, shrewd eyes snapping up to Tony's. The haze of subspace was completely gone now and all that was left was fierce intelligence ringed by razor edges of pain. "You weren't the first person they sent in," he finally admitted, quietly.

Tony sucked in a deep breath and held it, waiting.

"I'm sure they thought I wouldn't remember, because they never felt the need to tell me about it. I'm also sure _he_ thought I wouldn't remember. Most subs wouldn't remember, down that deep, but I guess the serum did something to my memory."

"What happened?" Tony asked through gritted teeth.

"I don't think he ever intended to try and bring me up. He just -"

Tony stood up sharply unable to keep his seat, keep still without punching something. He paced across the room to the TV, then turned back.

"He just… enjoyed my submission," Steve said softly, one hand tensing into a fist in his lap.

"Steve, I -" Tony cut himself off. It was probably one of those times where he should think about what he was going to say before he said it. But hot, prickling rage was clawing its way up the inside of his chest, and he wanted to scream and ram this man's face through a wall. "Who was it?"

"He took what he wanted then he told me I was screwed, that no one could bring me up from where I was, and then he left. It made me panic, the thought that I'd be down that far forever. Then you showed up… you were so kind and firm and clear and - it was so easy to be good for you. I remember all of it. I really believe you saved my life."

"Who. Was it."

"It doesn't matter, Tony. SHIELD didn't do anything they weren't allowed to do. I signed over _everything_ to them. I don't have a social security number or a passport or  - or a _Costco card._ They own me. I knew that when I signed. I knew something like that might happen. It was my choice."

"How could you -?!" Tony took a breath when Steve flinched back at the Command leaking into his voice. He dialed it back then tried again. "How could you possibly think something like that was going to happen?" He sat back down on the couch, leaving a cushion of space between them. "Besides the fact that a contract like that should be _illegal,_ besides the fact that no one should assume they might be _raped_ just because they signed up for some sketchy government experiments. Besides all that, _I know you thought the serum would make you a Dom."_

Steve twitched. "I thought that was just the sceptre talking."

"Saying it like an asshole was the sceptre talking, but they used my father's work to make you happen. I've read it. I know what he expected. I know what Fury expected. I can't imagine he didn't tell you that's what would happen."

Steve shifted on the couch. "I didn't really want to be a Dom. I didn't care. I thought it would be nice to be free of the need to go down, but I know it's as bad for you, it's just different. I didn't care one way or the other, but they told me it would change me and I accepted that. I didn't care about any of the consequences. I still don't, not really. But SHIELD still owns me and if I go back and ask for a Dom, I know who they'll supply. And I can't do that. I can't go down for him."

"Jesus, _fuck._ Of course, you can't do that." Tony scrubbed his hands over his face. He needed to _move._ "Tell me who it was Steve. Please."

"Why?" Steve's voice was soft and broken for the first time.

"Because I'm going to take care of this."

"You're not my Dom, Tony. You don't owe me anything."

"I know. But I'm a member of this team, and I can't just ignore this. I know Fury. I know how to play this. Just tell me who it was."

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly, through his nose. "Agent Rumlow."

Tony stood immediately. "You can stay up here if you want to. JARVIS will show you where the food is and put on anything you want to watch. Or you can go back to your own room in the tower. Don't contact SHIELD and don't try and go back to the helicarrier."

Steve stood and followed him as Tony pulled on his shoes then grabbed his jacket and sunglasses. "What are you going to do?"

Tony turned back to grab his phone and wallet from the table by the door. He tucked them in his pockets before sliding on his sunglasses. He shot Steve one more look, jaw set, barely able to get the words out. "I'm going to take care of this."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this just keeps getting more and more self-indulgent! Yay :D Also, it went from one chapter to four, to seven, to nine, to uh... twelve. I don't know what's happening...

Tony breezed past Fury's assistant without pausing and walked through the door to his office. He settled in the chair opposite Fury's desk, leaning back with his hands folded together across his stomach. Fury eyed him up.

"Can I help you?"

Tony beamed. "You can, as it happens. I want the Avengers."

"Pardon me?"

"Did they get an ear along with the eye?" Tony leaned forward across the desk and all but bared his teeth. "I want the Avengers."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play dumb, Nick. We both know this was your plan all along." Tony started counting off on his fingers. "You brought me in as a contractor, teasing me with membership, but then as soon as things get hinky, you're on the phone to the tower. You pushed me in with Rogers, even though I _know_ you had a Dom on hand who was uncontracted, and with high enough security clearance." Tony watched out of the corner of his eye as Fury's mouth twitched into a sharp line. "You sent me files, showed me equipment, drew me in, and all for what? There's no way you can afford this team - no way. Even ignoring the training and equipment and housing, the liability is through the roof. This team is going to be millions to maintain and you know that." Tony paused.

Fury nodded slowly, jaw tense.

"Well, as it happens, the richest man in America wants the team. Give me the Avengers, put the finances in my hand and write over any contracts you have, and I'll cover the cost. We'll stay in touch with SHIELD, with the WSC, we'll take missions the way your other contractors do. But I want the Avengers."

Fury considered him for a long time. "Is this about Rog-"

Tony rolled his eyes and slumped back in his chair. "This is about a theory suddenly becoming reality. The Avengers were just a twinkle in your eye until Loki rocked up and you needed us. Now the Avengers is a real thing, we've been brought together, just like you wanted, and we want our freedom. I don't trust you and I don't trust the WSC. We'll be self-managing or we won't be at all. You want to see how quickly we can all disappear? I dare you to test me on this. Once Loki's back in Asgard you have zero bargaining chips."

"You think they're going to accept you as leader?"

"I'm not going to be leader." Tony crossed his arms over his chest. "But that's for us to work out. This meeting is about money, Nick, either you can afford the Avengers or you can't."

Fury sighed. "You give me too much credit, Stark. This wasn't my plan, of course not. How could I have known about Loki?" He waved a hand. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter, does it? It pains me to admit it, but you're right. We have a government budget we need to adhere to and a team of superheroes isn't quite what we had in mind when we pushed it through congress. Bruce's fancy hotel room alone was a hefty sum. Besides…" Fury looked considering. "There are… benefits, to your team running solo." He hummed. "Yeah, benefits…" His eyes flicked to the door behind Tony, and Tony tensed. There was some undercurrent he could feel eddying around his feet, but he couldn't quite trace it back to where it was coming from.

Fury tapped his fingers on the desk for a moment. "You'd have to sign some stuff."

"Bring it on."

"Okay, fine." Fury slapped his palm down once. "You can have the Avengers. You can work out leadership and shit like that on your own. You can contract with Rogers now that he's free, if that's what you're after - not like a give a fuck who he's sleeping with -"

Tony forced himself to stay impassive in his chair, wrathful tension coiling up his spine like a snake. He wanted to rip apart SHIELD, find Rumlow, and tear him into tiny pieces, but he had to do this logically. And carefully.

"- and then I won't have to justify you to the WSC anymore. I also won't be able to protect you, though," he added pointedly. "As a separate entity, any issues with the law will be on your own heads."

"That's fine. If you sign us into a mission, we'll be covered like your other contractors are. I just want us to be free in the meantime."

"Fair enough. I'll draft everything up and have it sent to the tower tomorrow."

Tony hesitated. "That easy?"

Fury fixed him with a penetrating stare. "Well, apparently it was my plan all along, so why should I fight it?"

They hung in tense silence for a moment then Tony stood. "Send it to my lawyers first. They'll send it to me."

"Alright."

Tony turned to go, but the slight screech of Fury's chair made him pause and turn back.

"Keep your eyes open." Fury muttered, so low, Tony wasn't actually sure if he was meant to hear it.

When he arrived back at the tower, the penthouse was empty. JARVIS informed him that Steve was back in his own room, asleep. He asked after Rumlow, but the SHIELD tracker JARVIS hacked said he was still on a mission.

Now that he was alone, Tony let his rage well up inside him. He hated that SHIELD had used his father's work, hated his father for designing the serum in the first place. He hated Fury for being an asshole. He _despised_ Agent Rumlow for being a disgusting rapist. He hated Loki for, well, everything. And he hated himself because he _knew_ he wasn't ever going to be what Steve needed.

He wanted to be. For maybe the first time in his life, he wanted to be that for someone, but even the thought dashed ice water down his spine. Steve wouldn't ever be his, but he sure as fuck wouldn't be SHIELD's either.

Rumlow… Rumlow he would deal with later.

Tony didn't sleep that night, holing up in his workshop with music loud enough to pound away his roiling thoughts, and hands busy enough that they couldn't remember the shape of Steve under them.

An email from his lawyers arrived at noon, letting him know they had the contracts and they'd be reviewing everything to make sure SHIELD was thorough enough. They expected it would take a few days, which made Tony's skin crawl. He wanted out, and he wanted out _now._ But, he knew Fury was an asshole, but not outwardly malicious. It was in his best interest to dump the Avengers on Tony, so Tony had no doubt he'd make it happen.

A few hours later, he was brought a distraction in the form of Thor. Tony grabbed Bruce and the three of them convened in the lab. They had all of SHIELD's information on the tesseract, so it wasn't hard to design a device that would use the tesseract's power to send Thor and Loki back to Asgard.

Tony stayed in the lab long after Thor had gone back to SHIELD to watch over Loki and Bruce had gone upstairs to eat and go to bed. Tony was deep in perfecting the design work when he heard a slight shuffle behind him. He turned and looked up to find Steve, eyes locked on the hologram of the tesseract where it spun on top of Tony's desk.

"I can't believe such a small thing caused so much destruction," he said softly, then his eyes snapped up to Tony. "Sorry. The door opened."

Tony waved away his apology. "It's fine. J would have locked it down if I wanted to be alone." Palpable awkwardness settled over the room, bitter and tingling.

"You're sending Loki back?"

"Mhm. This little doohickey will take Tweedledee, Tweedle-fucking-dickwad, and the Tesseract back to Asgard and out of our hair."

"That's amazing."

Tony snorted. "Don't be amazed until it works." Steve was hovering in a very particular way. It made the back of Tony's neck crawl. "You're going to thank me again, aren't you?"

Steve chuckled nervously. "It seemed appropriate."

Tony looked up from his work and met Steve's uncertain gaze. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"I - uh - I feel like maybe I shouldn't have told you what I did…"

"I meant it when I said I would take care of it. You won't have to worry about SHIELD or that shitstain again."

"What did you do to him?" Steve shifted his weight from foot to foot then snapped back into at rest.

"Nothing yet. He's on a mission, out of the country. I can't compromise his team."

"So what did you -?"

"I talked to Fury. I'm working on getting the Avengers out of SHIELD's grasp, but it's going to take a few days to finalize."

"Oh." Steve blinked at him, and Tony turned back to his work. "Hmm."

"I don't trust SHIELD."

Steve fell silent, but didn't leave. He wandered around the workshop, peering at various projects, stopping for a long time at the BMW Tony had in pieces by the far wall. Tony tried to make it seem like he was working, but his focus was glued on the man making a slow turn of the space.

When Steve arrived at Tony's desk again, Tony tossed his stylus aside and leaned back in his chair. "Do you trust SHIELD?"

Steve half-shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I think Fury is trying to do good, but he's very ‘the ends justify the means’." He gestured half-heartedly towards himself. "Ends right here… means weren't great," he muttered.

"Can I -" Tony paused, then went for it. "Can I ask - why? Don't answer if you don't want to, but it's been torturing me."

"They didn't tell you?"

Tony shook his head. "They told me very little."

"Hmm."

"You don't have to."

"No - I." Steve grabbed a spare chair and pulled it up near the desk. He sat and rested his elbows on his knees. "I grew up poor. Really poor. And sick. _Really_ sick. My ma raised me on her own, and I spent all my time with my best friend, Bucky. I got a scholarship for art school when I graduated high school, which was - it was everything. Bucky didn't, though, so he joined the military. He didn't have many other options…" Steve trailed off for a moment, eyes fixed on some point over Tony's shoulder. Tony stayed still and quiet, waiting. "My ma got sick. Eighteen months ago, Bucky was killed in the line of duty," Steve said shortly. "Four months later, my ma died."

"Shit," Tony breathed.

"I missed too many classes taking care of her in the end and I lost my scholarship. I couldn't afford to pay for school on my own and even if I'd wanted to join the military that took my best friend from me, I was weak and sickly - they'd never take me. I got odd jobs where I could, but my ma hadn't had life insurance so I was basically fucked."

"And SHIELD -"

Steve nodded. "SHIELD recruited me. I signed a three-year contract, including signing over everything of mine that I had any claim to. They said I might die during the process, but if I didn't, I'd work for them for three years in special ops and then they'd release me with a very generous compensation package." He sighed heavily. "I'm glad you're trying to get the Avengers away from SHIELD, but I'm government property, Tony. It's not going to work."

What lies had they fed him to make him think they owned him so completely that Tony couldn't get him out? Still, Tony didn't want to make any promises. "We'll see about that."

Steve shrugged. "I don't even know what I'd do with my freedom. I don't have a family, no friends, no home. No - no Dom. I'm just -" He shrugged again. "I guess I'm just Captain America now."

Silence fell between them again, heavier this time, full, like humid, summer air right before a thunderstorm.

Then Steve sat up suddenly. "Anyway. That's not why I came down."

Tony quirked an eyebrow. "You came down to thank me again, didn't you?"

Steve smiled. "Yeah. But I also wanted to ask if you wanted to do something. Play cards or watch a movie or something. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot - with the scepter, and - uh - the other stuff. But since we're both here, we could. Um." Steve leaked air between his teeth and grit his jaw. Tony resisted the urge to smirk. He was like a anxiety-ridden tenth grader asking his crush to semi-formal.

"Sure. We can play cards. Fair warning, though, I play to win."

Steve's uncertain grimace turned into a smile. "Me too."

**

The next three days went by quickly, mostly occupied by building the transportation device with Bruce. Cards with Steve hadn't exactly been comfortable, but it hadn't been as awkward as Tony had expected, and it definitely broke something tense between them. It was a profound relief to be able to look at Steve and see him trying to peek at Tony's hand while he poured a drink, instead of seeing him in his skin-tight boxers, on his knees, gazing up at the ceiling like he'd found God in Tony's Command.

It was a hard image to shake, but the more Tony saw of him in normal, everyday life, the easier it was.

On the third day, they finished the device and sent word to Thor. The six of them gathered together in Central Park and watched as the blue light of the tesseract carried Thor and Loki into the sky.

When they returned to the tower, Tony dodged Bruce, Natasha, and Clint's discussion of what to have for lunch, ducked under Steve's hopeful twitch towards the card table, and took a sharp right down to his workshop to decompress. "Nothing from the lawyers, yet?" he asked JARVIS.

"No, sir. Ms. Potts would like to meet with your regarding PR, though."

Tony sighed. "Of course she does. This is going to be either a disaster or incredible. I'm not entirely sure." Tony picked up a wrench and spun it around his fingers. He glanced towards the wall of suits then made an executive decision to ignore them for the day. He dragged his toolbox over to the BMW and popped the hood.

"Colonel Rhodes is on the secure line, sir," JARVIS interrupted. Tony wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the entire engine block was in pieces across the floor, so it must have been a few hours at least.

"Answer it." There was a click then Tony said, "Hey, Roadster." Tony hadn't heard his voice since a brief call after the Chitauri attack to assure him he was okay, and his anxiety started melting away as soon as Rhodey spoke.

"Tony! You still okay?"

"I'm good, bud. Bit of a knot in my neck, but I hear going through a portal into space can have that effect on you. Anything new?"

"Not really, same old, same old. You?"

Tony hummed. "Well…"

"Tones."

"I may have bought an entire team of superheroes."

"Oh." There was a heavy pause. "Well, as long as you're staying out of trouble."

Tony barked out a laugh and it took more of his tension with it. He collapsed backwards on the couch and threw an arm over his eyes. "Rhodey, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Yeah, I mean…" He paused, consideringly. "Where do you even buy superhero chow?"

"Har har. That's - that's not really what I was talking about. That's just money and insurance and shit. Ah - hrm."

Rhodey waited, then when Tony didn't answer he cleared his throat. "You going to make me pull teeth?"

"No, no. I'm - I did a scene with Steve Rogers. Captain America."

"The guy in the blue suit? That supersoldier from the New York fight? Didn't they use your dad's research to make him happen?"

"Yeah. Him."

"Oh. Huh."

"What?"

"No, it's just - it's unusual for you to scene with people you know."

"I know… That's why -" Tony cut himself off. "I didn't have sex with him."

"Okay."

"He needed my help."

"Okay."

"Stop saying okay."

There was a long pause. "Okay." Rhodey snorted.

Tony groaned and rolled his face into the back of the couch. "What am I doing?" he whined.

"So you like the guy."

"I don't. I barely know him."

"So you need a sub and he's convenient."

"Ugh. That's not fair either."

Rhodey sighed. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. I don't know. I feel like this is getting complicated, you know? He makes me feel… I don't know. I feel like he needs someone in his corner, I guess."

"That's alright, Tones. You can look out for the guy if you want to. Nothing wrong with that. You're also allowed to like him, even if you barely know him. Get to know him."

"Maybe." Familiar fear coiled up Tony's spine and squeezed his lungs. "What if -? Nevermind. I don't know. The team has to come first, though. It's best if he gets another Dom."

"Is that what's best for you?"

"Fuck off with that," Tony said, laughing, and Rhodey laughed too.

"My apologies for the interruption, sir," JARVIS cut in, "but I've just been alerted that Agent Rumlow has returned to SHIELD's New York headquarters."

Tony jumped up. "Rhodey, I'm going to have to cut you off there. I have something I have to take care of."

"I'm not posting bail."

"Oh, don't be like that, sweetheart," Tony purred, typing a few commands into his computer. This was the perfect time to test the retracting suit. "You love posting my bail."

"I'm getting too old for that nonsense."

"Fair enough. I'm getting too old to be arrested. You can sleep tight, Rhodes, I've got this handled."

Rhodey sighed in a way that said he knew Tony was about to so something wild and reckless, but he chuckled after. "Alright. Bye, Tony."

"Bye." JARVIS clicked the speaker off, and Tony stuck out a hand. "Gimmie the gauntlet, J."

One of the Iron Man gauntlets burst out of the case on the far wall and spun across the room until it collided with Tony's hand. His fingers were rapidly encased in red and gold as the metal shifted into place. He could feel the extra weight, but it was tolerable. He hefted it a few times then fired the repulsors. "Alright, get me a car. SHIELD doesn't need anymore data on Iron Man that we absolutely have to give them."

Happy picked Tony up and dropped him off at SHIELD's New York headquarters, a tall, personality-free, glass and metal building in midtown. Tony popped his sunglasses on and powered up the stairs and down the hall. He waved his badge at security and they parted like the Red Sea, giving him access to the elevators. Tony looked down at his phone and saw JARVIS had sent him directions - floor nine, mess hall. He was having dinner.

Tony pushed the button for nine and watched the lights tick along. He let his eyes close for a moment and remembered Steve, at his feet, soft smile ghosting his lips, gaze fuzzy and unfocused, dedicated entirely to his task.

The elevator binged and opened.

Tony powered across the mess hall, eyes focused on a table at the far end of the large room, where the STRIKE team was gathered. Tony had met Rumlow in passing and had no trouble picking his ten-dollar, fuckboy crew cut out of a sea of ten-dollar, fuckboy crew cuts.

Tony cut behind his table and grabbed a handful of the back of his tac jacket in his gauntlet then locked it into place. Rumlow flew off the bench with a startled yelp as Tony made a beeline for the opposite wall.

"What the fuck?!" Rumlow squirmed in his grip, but he had nothing against gold titanium alloy that very much didn't want to be moved. "Let go of me!"

No one moved to help Rumlow, several tables of agents watching in stunned silence as Tony crossed the floor and shoved open the door to the balcony. Rumlow started to struggle in earnest when he realized where they were headed.

"What the _fuck?!_ Where are you taking me? Let go! Fuck! _Fuck!"_

Tony stepped from the floor to a chair, up to a tabletop, and then right over the railing. Rumlow squealed like a pig being run over by a lawn tractor, as they plummeted towards the ground. Tony took one breath, the air rushing around him, then squeezed his fist. The Iron Man armour burst out of the gauntlet, unfolding and unfolding, plates snapping together with a pleasing whirr until he was completely encased, Rumlow still clutched in his grip.

Tony fired the repulsors less than thirty feet from the ground, and Rumlow cried out again as they shot back into the air. Tony blasted at near top speed up to the roof of the building then tossed Rumlow on the gravel and landed beside him. He'd clearly passed out briefly on the flight up, but as soon as he was free of the g-force he came to and scrambled away from Tony, chest heaving with panicked gasps.

"What the fuck -?" he choked, terror curling his edges.

Tony stepped towards him, looming over his prone form. "That's too bad. I'd read somewhere it was the fall that killed you. Heart attack or something. Guess they were wrong."

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't just -"

"Yes, I can," Tony snapped. He dropped to a knee between Rumlow's legs and grabbed his crotch with one gauntleted hand, squeezing until Rumlow arched up and squeaked. "If you ever, _ever_ touch Steve Rogers again, I'll rip this tiny excuse for a dick right off. And next time I chuck you off the balcony, it'll be alone." The faceplate snapped up, and Tony leaned in, radiating every ounce of rage that coursed through him. _"Got it?"_

For a moment, Rumlow looked like he was considering arguing back, so Tony squeezed his metal hand tighter, and Rumlow's face collapsed as he folded in on himself. "Okay, okay. I get it," he whined desperately.

Tony released him and stood back. Rumlow scrambled to his feet and folded over, bracing his hands on his knees. He spat in the gravel then cleared his throat. "You're fucking crazy, man. I don't even want your sub."

Tony rounded on him again. "I _am_ fucking crazy. And I will end you without hesitation." He activated the repulsors and shot into the air. "And he's not my sub…" he added quietly to himself. He blasted across the sky, taking the long route over the water, back to the tower. Rumlow would be too embarrassed to talk, and even if he did, Tony could involve Fury. He was sure Fury didn't know the details of what had happened in that room, if he'd even been the one to send Rumlow at all. For now, he felt some small satisfaction in making Rumlow nearly piss himself.

Tony landed back at the tower and had the suit retract again then zip off to file itself in its case. He made his way back up to the penthouse for a shower and a stiff drink, but when he opened the door he screeched to a halt. Two large file cases sat on the kitchen table, with _Avengers_ scrawled on the side: the contracts.

"Hey, J," Tony called, shucking his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. "Call an Avengers meeting, two hours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

"So, we're really doing this?" Clint asked, once they were all settled around the table. "Making a team?"

"I was a little startled when JARVIS called the Avengers meeting," Bruce said, raising an eyebrow at Tony. "But I guess we are."

"Well, that's part of what I wanted to talk about," Tony said. "Find out who's in."

"A vote?" Steve offered. "No obligation, just - who's interested in the idea of the Avengers becoming a team?"

Four hands went up - Bruce's mouth twitched as he looked around at the others. "I'm not sure it's a good idea for me."

"Come on, buddy." Tony clapped him on the shoulder. "You did such a good job against the Chitauri. You're our big guns."

"I don't really want to be the big guns."

"It's alright," Steve said. "We can still use you, even without the - uh - the Hulk. We couldn't have sent Loki and Thor back to their world without you. We need that kind of brainpower."

"Wow, rude," Tony said, shooting a wink at Steve who rolled his eyes. "Thought I was brains enough for you, sweetheart."

"You're  _ ego _ enough," Steve shot back with a grin.

"Oooh, ouch."

"Stop flirting." Cint snapped his fingers between them, and Tony flipped him off. Steve blushed of all things. "Looks like we're all in. Or Dr. Banner is half-in, I guess. But what does that mean? We're going to be like STRIKE?"

"Actually… that was the other reason I wanted to talk to you all," Tony said. He pulled the boxes out from under the table and dropped them in the middle of the group. "Entire ownership for the Avengers, all our work contracts, everything, is in these boxes. If we sign the papers SHIELD sent over, we're free from their hold completely."

"What?" Clint pulled the top off one of the boxes and started flipping through pages. "How did you do this?"

"I had a little talk with Fury. We agreed that the Avengers were best taken out of SHIELD's hands. That being said, none of it takes effect until we sign. If any of you want to keep your work contracts with SHIELD, you're certainly welcome to. They're bound to your current agreement until you make this new one."

Clint handed Steve a file folder with his name on it, and he opened it, eyes wide. "You really did it?" His gaze flicked up to Tony's.

"Said I'd take care of it, didn't I? This way we'll have our own decisions, as well as our own consequences. We can contract out to SHIELD on a mission-to-mission basis, but it also leaves us free to pursue our own things, our own agenda. Or, you know, break up. If that's what we want." There was a tense hum around the table. "I'll pay everyone out, if you're worried about that. I mean, I've already set aside a huge trust for the Avengers and it'll pay out anyone who wants to leave."

"You didn't have to do all this," Bruce said softly.

"Course I did. I don't want to be in SHIELD's pocket any more than you do." Tony tossed Bruce's packet over to him, and he opened it and started to read, picking up a pen and clicking it significantly.

"Sure, I'm in,"' Clint said. "Not every day you get to be part of a squad of elite superheroes. Besides, digs here are better."

Steve was already flipping through his, but Natasha was eyeing the box with concern.

"Romanoff?"

"I'm not sure. I've been with SHIELD for a long time."

"That's okay." Steve nodded in her direction. "We don't all have to sign. We can still be a team, even if you're still working for SHIELD."

"The idea is to give us more freedom, not take it away," Tony insisted. "No one has to do anything."

"I'll think about it." Natasha closed her file and pulled it close to her chest. 

"Everyone should think about it. And read everything thoroughly," Tony said. Even as he said it, the reality of what had just happened started to sink in. He'd been so obsessed with getting Steve out of SHIELD's nasty grip that it hadn't really occurred to him what else he'd be changing. But here they were, forming a team, making plans. "I guess I can order the Avengers stationary."

"I want business cards," Clint said. "You can put 'Team Leader' on mine."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "Darling, you couldn't lead your way out of a paper bag."

Steve snorted then tried to hide it, and Tony laughed out loud at his wince. "We should vote on that, too."

"Well, you organized all this," Steve said, with a nod towards Tony. "You're paying for everything. It should be you."

But Tony shook his head. "Nope. No way. Not me." He hadn't been lying when he'd told Fury he wasn't going to be leader. He'd happily bankroll the team, sign the cheques, dot the i's, and upgrade everyone's cheques, but running the group was a responsibility he was  _ not _ going to shoulder.

"I think Steve should be team leader," Bruce said. "No offense, Clint."

Nat patted Clint on the shoulder. "Seconded."

Tony met Steve's gaze and held it. Something passed between them and it jolted down Tony's spine like electricity. "That's what I was going to suggest."

Clint waved them all away dismissively. "Yeah. I agree. Steve is obviously the best choice. I'll be in charge of morale, instead."

"You're doing a bang up job." Tony handed out the last of the file folders then shoved the boxes back under the table. "Okay, great, we're a team. High five. Now everyone out of my apartment, I have a company, a tower, and a freeloading gang of superheroes to sort out."

Everyone shuffled and chatted as they packed up to leave, and Tony started to re-sort and file the folders that hadn't been handed out. 

After a moment, he looked up to speak to JARVIS, thinking he was alone, and realized Steve was still in the room. He was standing next to the trash can by the door, holding the torn pieces of paper that had been the temporary contract Fury had offered Tony, a strange, twisted look on his face. "What's this?" Steve asked. "It has your name on it."

"That's the contract they tried to get me to sign when I took care of you after Rebirth. It was in your file but we won't need it so I chucked it."

"You didn't sign it?" There was something uncomfortable in Steve's surprise.

"No." Tony stopped shuffling papers and watched him carefully. Steve's eyes were glued to the torn contract he was still holding. "I wasn't going to let them sign on your behalf. You were completely out of it."

"Right." Steve fitted the edges of the contract back together for a moment then shook his head and tossed it back in the trash can. He made no move towards leaving.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked. "I have lawyers and contractors, you know. If you need one drafted, we'll get you a new one. You don't have to worry about getting rid of that one. I don't trust anything SHIELD drafted, anyway."

Steve seemed to shake himself out of a trance. He turned away from the trash can and crossed the room to stop at the edge of the table. "No. I'm fine. It's fine. I was just thinking, you know. About what this means." He gestured towards the boxes.

"It means you're free. SHIELD doesn't own you. You can do whatever you want, contract with whoever you want. My lawyers are getting all your paperwork in order, sorting out your ID. You can find your own Dom now. I'll help you set up a Subscene account."

"Right," Steve repeated. He rapped a knuckle on the table. "Actually… could I ask a favour?"

Tony tossed the last of the papers back in the box. "Sure."

"I've never used a service before and I wasn't expecting to be released from SHIELD for years. I'm sort of… thrown. But, uh - I was wondering if you'd - uh -" Steve's eyes dropped to the carpet. "- bring me down one more time, actually. Give me a chance to adjust to the idea of being with a stranger, I guess. It's okay if you can't, I appreciate everything you've done for me. I'm just -"

Tony knew he should say no. He should reassure Steve that Subscene was simple and easy and better for everyone, and he should say,  _ sorry, no.  _ There was a reason he didn't scene with people he knew, a hundred reasons, really, and Steve seemed to be threatening far too many of them. Tony opened his mouth to say,  _ sorry, no,  _ and what came out was, "Okay."

Steve brightened immediately, and Tony despaired at how much he already wanted to see that expression cross his face again. "Thank you. Tonight?"

"Yeah. Come by the penthouse at seven."

"Okay. Thank you, Tony. Really." Steve turned and walked out, file folder clutched in his arms, not even sparing a glance for the torn contract in the trash can. 

Tony spent the evening fretting and churning in his mind instead of planning a scene, and when Steve knocked at seven on the dot, and Tony let him in, he had no idea what he was going to do for him. He was still determined to keep sex out of it, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself. Steve's submission was beautiful, and if he was only going to get this one last chance to have it all to himself, he wanted it to be a good one.

"What do you like?" Tony guided Steve to the couch and sat beside him. 

Steve seemed to hesitate. "I've liked everything we've done so far."

"Well, yeah. I mean, what else? One more session, right? Let's make the most of it. What do you like?" Tony shifted a little closer. 

Steve was quiet for a moment. "I don't really know," he finally admitted. "I haven't had much experience."

Tony sensed Steve had more to say and he waited, silent, while Steve chewed over his words then finally let them out.

"Before the serum, I was sick and scrawny - not exactly the ideal sub. I wouldn't have been able to handle much activity without an asthma attack, or worse. My best friend, Bucky, the one who died. He was a sub too, but, uh… we used to help each other a little. Kneel for each other, hair petting, just subs experimenting like kids do. But he moved on, found Doms. I never really did. He tied my wrists together once. I liked that. That - that's all I know. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for inexperience, Steve. I just want to make sure you enjoy yourself."

A light haze of subspace fogged across Steve's eyes before they cleared again. "I always enjoy myself with you."

Tony stood and stepped closer, pressing his knee against Steve's leg. He couldn't help brushing a hand through his hair. "Sweet thing…" he murmured. "Are you up for trying something, then? I won't hurt you."

A smile breezed over Steve's lips and he tipped his chin back, baring his neck to Tony. "Anything."

"Okay. I need you to go in the bedroom - through that door. Take off your shirt and pants then open the closet by the foot of the bed. There's a blue chest at the bottom. Open it and take out the black box on top. Put it on the bed then lie down next to it. You have five minutes. Got it?"

Steve nodded furiously, already drifting down, soft and easy. He scampered off, and Tony slumped on the couch, eyes closed. He visualized what he wanted, making a plan in his mind, running through the whole scene. The Dom welled up within him, the more he thought about Steve giving over to his Command. 

When the five minutes were up, Tony went into the bedroom to find Steve stretched out on the bed, body tense with anticipation. The black box sat by his hip. Smooth, pale skin led Tony's eyes down to the waistband of Steve's fitted, black boxer briefs. "Gorgeous," Tony said, and Steve turned towards him and smiled. 

Tony took off his dress shirt, shoes, socks, and his belt and set them aside, then stood by the edge of the bed and pulled the box towards him. He could feel Steve's curious eyes on him, but he ignored him for now. He opened the box and took out a wound coil of deep red rope. He untwisted the tie and lay the rope out long on the bed beside Steve.

Steve's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Wow."

"You okay?"

"Yes, Tony. Very okay."

"Okay, good. You remember you can safeword at any time and we'll stop and figure out what's wrong, right?"

"Yes, Tony."

"Good, boy."

Steve preened as Tony took out three more lengths of rope and stretched them out carefully beside the other. He closed the box and set it aside then climbed on the bed at Steve's hip. "I'm going to touch you."

"Okay," Steve breathed.

Tony stroked his fingers along the outside of Steve's arm, up and down. The tension started leaking out of his body. "Sit up."

Steve's abs rippled and he levered up, hands coming to rest on his thighs. Tony let his fingers trail up to Steve's shoulder then across and down his back. He explored every uncovered inch of Steve's body, slowly and methodically, until he was sure Steve was relaxed and used to his touch. 

"On your knees."

Steve tucked his calves under his thighs and knelt on the bed. Tony kept petting him, moving from his arms to his chest then down to his stomach. Steve swallowed heavily when Tony's fingers skated an inch from the top of his waistband. His muscles worked in tiny adjustments to keep him steady on the mattress as Tony leaned in, pressing a dent next to Steve's knee. 

Tony finished by rubbing both palms roughly up Steve's bare thighs. He stopped with a few inches between his fingertips and the hem of Steve's boxers. "Ready?"

Steve nodded, his fingers twitching at his sides. "Yes, Tony."

Tony lifted one of the lengths of rope and ran it through his fingers a few times, smoothing out the subtle twists. "Arms out."

Steve stretched out his full wingspan and Tony traced a line around his chest with two fingers, then followed it with the double-folded rope. He tied a knot at the centre of Steve's chest, just above the line of his pecs, leaving a little loop sticking up. He tested the tightness - enough that Steve would feel the pull when he breathed in, but not enough to pinch. 

"Here we go," Tony murmured, more to himself than to Steve. He began to wind the rope around, tying a series of knots down Steve's chest as he framed it with lines of dark red. He traced each path with his fingers first, showing Steve where the tie would sit before he settled it into place.

It wasn't long before he sunk into the rhythm of it. Tony loved tying shapes. He would close his eyes sometimes, bored, and design new pathways, like planning out a circuit board, each connection from point to point on a sub's body a live wire, bringing electricity to his fingertips as he traced them. And Steve was gorgeous in his wrap, still as a statue, eyes fallen shut, mouth fallen open.

Tony tied one last knot low on Steve's chest, then finger tested each wrap, back up to his neck. Next, he shuffled around behind and took each of Steve's wrists in one hand. He guided them to Steve's centre back and crossed them into a square, fingertips at each of his elbows. He gave Steve a moment to breathe into the pose, then he took another length of rope and began again. He worked his way up Steve's arms until they were locked tight against his back, decorated with lines of red and wound through with the criss-crosses down his back. 

Done with his arms, Tony circled back and cupped Steve's cheek. "Look at me, sweet thing."

Steve's eyes fluttered open and he sighed, soft and gentle.

"You okay?"

He nodded and smacked a heavy-looking tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Great."

"Okay, perfect." Tony ran his palms down Steve's thighs again. His skin was flushed and warm now, eyes glassy. He was well on his way down. "I'm going to do your legs now. You okay in this position?"

"Mhm." Steve nodded again.

"Good boy." Tony could feel the electric thrum of the praise as it washed through Steve, rocking back through his hands into his own core. It was a profound kind of connection, and if Tony hadn't been flying almost as high as Steve, he'd be concerned by how easy it was to find.

Steve's legs got the same treatment as his arms. Tony had Steve step down to the floor then tipped him onto his back, making sure he wasn't lying too heavily on his arms, and started to work knots up the seam of his calves and thighs, locking them in place. The highest loops of rope cut across Steve's boxers, framing what looked to be a rather impressive package, but Tony ignored it, ignored his own arousal, and focused on trussing Steve up exactly the way he wanted.

When he'd tied off the last of the knots, Tony helped Steve rock back up onto his knees. He ran his hands over the ropes, tucking two fingers into each loop, testing and pressing and adjusting. Steve made a small noise, and Tony paused, eyes snapping to his face, looking for fear or discomfort, but he didn't find any. Steve was completely lost in the pleasure of being bound, jaw slack, eyes completely unfocused. He sighed with another small noise of happiness and Tony gently brushed the hair back from his forehead with both hands. 

"You look so beautiful like this," Tony whispered.

"Thank you," Steve managed, heavy and slurred.

"I'm going to keep you like this for a while. You can go down as low as you like, okay? I've got you. I'll bring you back up."

"Thank you," Steve repeated, already sinking visibly deeper.

A smoldering ember in Tony's chest flickered with new flames, and he swallowed heavily. He couldn't pull his eyes away from the image of Steve, still and bound in front of him. Tony pulled himself up onto the bed and sat, with Steve at his feet on the floor. He pressed one bare foot to the side of each of Steve's thighs and squeezed lightly, holding him in place, then he furrowed both hands into Steve's hair and left them there. His mind was still and empty, buzzing softly with a pleasant kind of white noise. It was so quiet and peaceful and easy, in that moment, that between heart beats, Tony let go of everything else. The rest of the apartment slipped away, the rest of the world slipped away, but Steve was under a spotlight, each knot that dotted his smooth pale skin glowing with light.

Tony didn't know how long they sat there in perfect stillness together, but JARVIS' voice jolted him back to the present. "Sir, may I advise -" JARVIS began.

"Huh?" Tony shook himself. "What?"

"May I advise that you begin to untie Captain Rogers? There is a risk of circulation issues after much longer."

"Oh, right." Tony jolted into movement, his hands automatically flitting down to test the knots for pressure. "Sorry, Steve. Steve? You okay?"

Steve blinked at him. "Hmm? Amazing. Don't take them off," he begged, forehead creasing.

"I have to." But Tony relaxed, knowing Steve was still enjoying himself. He resisted the urge to bend down and bring their faces closer, breathe in his air. They were on a knife-edge of intimacy and it was all too easy to tip over into a terrifying chasm. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Okay," Steve agreed easily, but his expression was still pinched. Tony smoothed it with his fingertips then settled on the floor beside Steve to begin working the ropes off. He freed each leg, rubbing it back to life, and helped Steve ease them both out in front of him. Next he unwound Steve's arms, the smooth  _ shkkk  _ of the ropes sliding against each other as he pulled them free almost as soothing as feeling each knot tighten had been. 

When the last knot released, Steve let out a long, slow breath. Tony stood and helped Steve up on the bed, laying him flat. Normally, Tony would re-wind and wrap all his ropes, checking each for signs of strain before packing them away, but he was feeling smooth and easy and uncaring, his focus like a laser on nothing but Steve, so he shoved the whole mess to the floor, kicked off his pants, and climbed onto the bed next to Steve. He pulled the covers over them both, drew Steve up against his chest and closed his eyes. Steve was already asleep when Tony mumbled at JARVIS to turn off the lights, and it was all too easy to drift off with him.

**

When Tony came to again, the sun was a few hours lower on the windows, and Steve was a heavy weight against his ribs. "Steve? Time to wake up."

All he got in reply was a soft groan, but a moment later, Steve shifted away. 

Tony wasn't sure what to say. That had been intense, to say the least, and he felt amazing in the wake of it, endorphins and other happy chemicals flushing through his veins, but he suspected it was a bit more than Steve had been expecting, after the relative tameness of their last two sessions. "Are you okay?" Tony asked.

"I feel wonderful," Steve breathed, no hint of discomfort in his voice. "How did you do that?"

Tony chuckled softly, more out of relief than anything. "Practice."

Steve rolled on his side, facing Tony. "Please contract with me."

A cascade of ice water crushed Tony's happy high.  _ "No," _ he bit out, before he could temper the anger in his tone.

Steve jerked back like he'd been slapped. "I'm sorry."

Tony sat up and ran a tense hand over his face. "No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - it's not you. I don't contract. Don't ask me to."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"I just really enjoy everything we've done together, and I -"

"I get it," Tony bit out, trying to keep his voice level. "I've had a good time too, but I'm not going to change my mind."

"Oh, okay. I'm - uh -" Steve blinked around, confused. He was still a little down, and Tony couldn't risk dropping him.

"It's okay, Steve. Don't worry about it. Come in the kitchen, we'll eat something, okay?"

"Okay…" Steve followed Tony into the kitchen and accepted a granola bar. While they ate, Tony tried to think of something to say to bring them back to the hazy peace they'd had ten minutes ago, but all he could think about was Steve asking him to contract. He ran the conversation through his mind over and over, coming up with a new, unsatisfactory way to answer each time. "I'd better go," Steve said, before Tony had found a way to speak again.

"Are you safe?" Tony tried to look into Steve's eyes, but he turned away. 

"Yes." He collected his clothes hurriedly and pulled them on. 

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine." Steve stopped by the door and met Tony's gaze head-on. It was clear and level. "Thank you. That was - that was something else. I appreciate it. Goodnight, Tony."

"Goodnight." Tony watched the door slip closed behind him, wondering just what exactly he'd ruined. There was no way Steve was going to come to him for this again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't even look at the chapter count, now.

"Steve asked me to contract."

Rhodey sighed. "I'm sorr- Wait - Steve? Like Captain America, Steve?"

"Uh. Yeah."

"Why? Did you scene with him again?"

Tony played with the tab on his soda can, tucking his phone under his ear. "... Maybe."

"Wow."

"What does that mean?"

"Ton -"

"No. No, I - This is crazy. Why can't - Why is every sub so goddamn obsessed? _ Argh." _ Tony sat down hard on his couch. "I thought we had a shot, this time," he mumbled.

But of course Rhodey caught it. "A shot at what? A relationship?" He sounded incredulous, which was fair. Tony had never expressed an interest in a relationship in the entire time they'd known each other. Which was a long time.

"No. Of course not. I thought - It seemed like maybe we could have an… arrangement. Save us both some Subscene gambles. We're compatible. The scenes are good. He seems to trust me. I know his backstory so I can be careful around his hot buttons. And he's good for me. He makes me feel good. His submission is… But it doesn't matter, because that's not what he wants. Just like everyone else, he wants a contract and nothing else will do."

"Did he actually say that?"

"He didn't have to. I'm sick of this Rhodey."

"I know."

"I'm sick of feeling this way. Sometimes I just wish I could be normal and sign like everyone else."

"Fuck off with that, Tony. Even if you didn't have real reasons for not wanting a contract, you'd still be allowed to feel that way. Not everyone wants to sign, not everyone does. As long as you're happy -?"

"Yeah. Yeah." Tony shook his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs. "Yeah, things were good before this. I just let him get in my head, you know?"

"Cause he needed you. That's a nice feeling."

"Yeah. But I'm not what he needs. He needs someone stable and safe, who can sign with him, and they'll be together for four hundred years. He's that kind of guy."

"But you're not." There was a slight questioning upturn at the end of the sentence.

"I'm not. I can't be. I suffered through three years of therapy with 'Call me Paul, Mr Stark," to figure that out, Rhodey."

"I remember," Rhodey said, laughing affectionately.

"That was the conclusion."

"I know, bud."

"So it was fun. He's a good sub. Annnnnd I'm moving on. Like I always do."

"Okay."

"There you go with that okay shit again."

Rhodey laughed then hummed softly into the phone. "Do you want me to score some time off and come visit?"

"Nah. No, no. It's not like I'm wrapped in a blanket sobbing into a pint of Rocky Road -" no, that was still on the counter thawing and the heat was up too high for a blanket "- it's not a  _ breakup. _ I'm just - I'm recalculating. And I guess I didn't expect it from him, I don't know why. He's always been easy. Too easy."

"You know -" Rhodey cut himself off. 

"What?"

"Well… I don't want to get up false hopes or anything, I don't even know the guy. But what if he was asking because he thought  _ you  _ would want one? Like you said, almost everyone does, eventually. So maybe he just thought that was what was expected next. You could always talk to him, find out."

"Stop being so damn reasonable. Talking, pff." Tony pushed himself to his feet and went in search of a spoon. He found a clean one in the dishwasher and squeezed the ice cream tub, pleased by the slight give. He brought it back to the couch and threw himself down, stretched out long. "I think I need some space from him."

"Also a good idea."  
  


**

Three days later, SHIELD asked to borrow Steve and Natasha in D.C. for two weeks. It was the perfect solution, as much as Tony yearned for Steve to stay - at his feet - it was all for the best, really; it was increasingly distracting, being around him, even when they carefully weren't alone together.

To Tony's surprise, things hadn't been awkward since Tony's rejection, but it was clear that Steve had backed off somewhat. Tony figured the best thing he could do was order a sub, get laid, push Steve out of his mind and move on. But SI demanded so much of his time over the next week that he ended up collapsing into bed every chance he got, barely finding time to take a shower, let alone bring someone down.

By the end of Steve's second week away, Tony was catching himself grinding his teeth more often than not. He was wound up and frustrated; it'd been too long since he'd had a sub, and he'd been too busy to enjoy other forms of personal release. Still, he didn't order anyone. Every time he opened up the app on his phone, exhaustion overtook him and he crawled into bed instead. Occasionally, in the haze right before sleep hit, Tony would think about how Steve had looked sprawled out on these sheets, wrapped in his ropes. Sleep came easier those nights. 

Tony shoved his work away, running his tongue along the chewed up line on the inside of his cheek. He couldn't stop his leg from bouncing, even though he'd gone on a forty-five minute run that morning. Steve was due home that night, and Tony  _ had _ to order a sub before he saw him or he was going to do something horribly embarrassing like fling himself at the other man and beg him to go to his knees. 

Tony took out his phone and opened Subscene. Faces of subs popped up, smiling or peering up at the camera through lowered lashes. Tony scrolled. And scrolled. No one appealed. He set his phone down and scrubbed both hands roughly over his face with a sigh. He couldn't really kid himself - he wanted Steve. But he'd ruined that like he ruined everything he touched, unable to offer Steve the one thing everyone always wanted and he clearly wanted too.

Tony thought about Steve finding the torn contract in the garbage and the concern Tony had been sure he'd seen there, old memories of what SHIELD had done likely churning up, took on a new flavour: disappointment. Steve had wanted Tony to have signed, to open a door for asking him to sign something more long-term, but Tony had let him down, would continue to let him down if Steve gave him another opportunity to. Which he shouldn't.

A fleeting vision of Steve kneeling at someone else's feet, someone in D.C. or ordered off an app made a low growl slip unbidden out of Tony's throat. And that was the other thing. If Steve didn't go down for Tony, he had to go down for someone else, and that thought made Tony's skin crawl. He had no right, no claim, on Steve's submission, but it was almost unbearable to picture it being handed so beautifully to someone else.

Tony rolled his phone between his hands. Unless…. Unless Rhodey was right, and Steve asking to contract was just him doing what he felt was expected. Maybe it was the only way Steve knew how to ask for something more permanent. Steve had said himself that he had little experience with Doms, and the happy couples on TV and in news stories were always contracted. 

But they had something good here, didn't they? Compatibility. It was harder to find than cheery Subscene radio commercials made it sound. He and Steve just  _ fit  _ and there was no way Steve didn't feel it. So maybe he'd be okay with continuing this, no signatures attached? Tony had told him no contract, but they hadn't really had a chance to talk about it. Maybe… maybe Tony should at least give it a shot.

If he didn't, he had to either order a sub or a tongue stud because he was going to chew a hole right through it at this rate.

Tony packed up his work and shut down his computer. He'd go up to the penthouse, get cleaned up, and plan out what he was going to say. Then, when Steve came home, he'd go to his room and talk to him.  _ And,  _ he told himself,  _ you will keep your cool and not beg or whine or cry or do anything else horrible when he says it's not good enough.  _

Tony pushed the button for the elevator and turned his phone onto to selfie mode to check himself out, wondering if he should take a shower. The answer was a definite yes. His hair was curling and sticking up at wild angles and he was sweating. He hadn't gone this long without taking someone down in years. Since - well.

Even in the cave, he'd had Yinsen, and they'd done what they had to to keep each other sane. It was worse and better that this time the break was his own doing.

_ Steve,  _ Tony started to himself,  _ how would you feel about a casual but long-term kind of arrangement? We're clearly compatible, and you don't seem all that sold on Subscene so maybe - _

The elevator doors opened and revealed Steve, duffel in hand, hair ruffled from his bike helmet, clearly on his way up from the garage. 

"Steve." Tony stood there stupidly, mouth open, the words he'd been lining up into his head smashing into the back of each other in his throat, causing a pileup.

Steve's Resting Captain Face immediately broke into a smile. "Tony! I missed you."

Tony's stomach flipped around into a complicated knot. "Oh. I - Same." Guess that was something they were saying now.

"Do you want to come up?" Steve offered. "I was going to stop at the common floor to hunt for food, but I could make something for both of us?"

The sudden, unexpected change in trajectory had Tony pinned to the back wall of the conversation, scrambling for purchase against the g-forces. He was expecting a cool, distant Steve, a little hurt, but no longer interested in anything Tony had to offer. He didn't know what to do with this warm, open Steve, who seemed like maybe he wouldn't need any convincing after all. "Uh. Sure? I actually have leftover Chinese in my fridge. I could grab it and bring it up?"

"That sounds perfect." Steve groaned. " _ Ah _ \- I'm so hungry. The flight from DC was short but somehow really long, you know?"

"I know how that goes." Tony grinned, joining him on the elevator as it shot up towards the upper floors. "How was D.C?"

Steve shrugged. "It was fine. Training went well and so did the two missions. It was good to liaise with the rest of the SHIELD forces we'll be working with. I - uh - I saw Rumlow…"

"Oh." Tony felt his whole body ratcheted tight. "How did that go?"

"It was fine. He was -" Steve tipped his head like a curious dog hearing a whistle down the hall. "- kind of polite, actually? Whatever you said to him, I think it worked. He kept his distance." He shrugged again. "It was fine."

Tony was fairly sure it had little to do with what he'd said to Rumlow and more about the bruises he'd left on his balls, but Steve didn't need to know the details. If Rumlow was leaving him alone, that was all Tony cared about. "You sure you're not too tired to hang out?" Tony offered, catching the pinched lines at the corners of Steve's eyes in the harsh fluorescents of the elevator.

Steve turned to look at him fully, leaning in a little. "Absolutely not," he breathed out, and Tony could see it now, the slight twitch in Steve's jaw, the sheen of cold sweat across his brow and the tremble of the hands he had shoved in his pockets. Steve was getting subsick again.

"I'll grab the food and meet you at your apartment," Tony squeezed out from clenching lungs, as the elevator dinged softly and opened at Steve's floor.

"Okay." Steve exited, eyes staying stuck on Tony as the doors slid shut. 

Tony leaned back against the elevator wall and took several cleansing breaths. So Steve hadn't found a Dom in D.C. He'd been busy - and as far as Tony knew, he hadn't asked JARVIS for help with Subscene before he left. That didn't mean he wanted Tony, though.

Tony hastily changed into fresh clothes, rubbed ineffectually at his wild hair, then gathered an armful of Chinese food containers out of his fridge and made a beeline back to the elevator. He should definitely still ask, he decided, as the doors slid closed again. He'd told Steve he couldn't contract, but that was when he was still down and a little loopy. Tony had to make sure this was clear between them, but if Steve wanted to keep helping each other out, Tony was all for it and then some.

Tony knocked on Steve's door then pushed it open. He found Steve in sweatpants and a thin t-shirt, waiting by the kitchen island. He smiled as soon as Tony walked in, the soft, open smile he only seemed to find when they were sceneing. Tony put the containers on the counter, then turned, mouth open, ready to lay out his conditions carefully and clearly, when Steve slid gracefully to his knees. 

"Oh," Tony said instead, heart ratcheting up into overdrive. God, it felt good to have Steve at his feet again. "Are you sure?"

Steve nodded. 

"Even without a contract?" Tony tried.

"I trust you," Steve said back simply, eyes already hazing.

"Okay." Tony could see the edges of subspace creeping in, and the flush of Domination rushed through his veins. The rest of the world fell away, tension washing out of his shoulders as he watched Steve wait obediently on the floor for his command. "Go sit by the armchair in the corner," Tony Commanded, turning back to the food. He heard Steve shuffle off and he focused on getting the leftovers out and reheating them, filling a huge plate with enough for both of them and then some.

Tony settled in the armchair with the plate in his lap then drew Steve up between his knees. "Hungry, sweet thing?"

Steve nodded. "Starving."

"Open." 

Steve opened his mouth, revealing his pink tongue, and Tony used his chopsticks to pick up a piece of sweet and sour pork. He dropped it on Steve's tongue and watched him chew with a smile of satisfaction. "Thank you," Steve breathed. 

"Broccoli," Tony said, and Steve opened his mouth again. It was deeply satisfying to watch Steve chew and swallow each piece of food, knowing he was feeding him, sustaining him. Steve was limp and heavy against Tony's legs, his cheek resting on Tony's knee between each offering from the chopsticks. 

Once he had a few mouthfuls in Steve, Tony started alternating with himself, only realizing how hungry he was when he started to eat. Steve slid each piece of food off the chopsticks gracefully, tongue darting out to clean sauce off his bottom lip, and Tony ate off the same chopsticks, unable to resist the little thrill of tasting where Steve's mouth had just been.

It was too easy, really, too simple. That Steve wanted this, exactly what Tony wanted, was impossible, but here he was, at Tony's feet, with no contract and no expectations. It didn't seem real.

But then Steve's closed his eyes and opened his mouth for another piece of food and all Tony's worries skittered away. Because Steve was so good; he'd never lie and say he was okay when he wasn't. And Tony had asked him point-blank if he was okay without a contract and he'd still agreed to this. So they were fine. Steve understood. It was perfect, really. Tony got everything he wanted - a sub he cared about, ready to go to his knees any time - and no one had to get hurt or left behind. 

They worked their way through the rest of the food, Tony switching back to feeding only Steve when he was sated. "Are you full, sweet thing?" Tony asked, when Steve seemed to be slowing down.

"Almost," Steve slurred, blissed out and soft.

He was gorgeous, absolutely giving, and letting Tony take care of him. All the unease and unsteadiness of the past two weeks evaporated off of Tony's shoulders and left him content, settled, stable, a solid foundation to tether the floating sub to the ground. "So perfect," Tony murmured, and Steve beamed. Tony fed him the last of the food then handed him the plate and instructed him to take it to the kitchen and clean it. 

The kitchen tap turned on, then a moment later, Steve reappeared and sunk down at Tony's feet again. Tony stroked firm fingers through Steve's hair, letting his eyes fall shut. Yes… this was perfect.

**

A few hours later, after a shower and a change of clothes, Steve and Tony both responded to Clint and Bruce's invitation to join them for a game of Mario Kart on Tony's massive theatre screen. Tony spent the elevator ride trying to school his stupid, giddy grin into something more controlled, but when the doors opened and Steve turned to see who had arrived, he had a stupid, giddy grin to match.

Natasha was there too, and Tony couldn't help but notice that she and Steve were closer now than they had been before the trip to D.C. They smiled at each other and shared little inside jokes that made Tony want to rest his chin on Steve's shoulder from behind and glare at anyone who got too close. But the flipside of keeping things casual between them was that Tony had no right to ask Steve to stay away from other Doms - not that he felt Nat was a legitimate threat, she and Clint had been contracted for years - but it brought up the same feelings Tony knew he'd have to keep under control around others too. 

And maybe, maybe someday, Steve would find his match, the Dom who could give him what he needed, had a place for him at their feet,  _ and  _ could sign with him. For now though, in some small way, Steve was Tony's.

He curled up in an armchair with his controller, half-focused on the game and losing horribly, because every few minutes his eyes drifted over to Steve, tongue peeking out between his teeth, eyes glued to the screen. 

When Steve glanced over as he crossed the finish line, his gaze found Tony's and he smiled brilliantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, everything's fine! They figured it all out and nothing's wrong and everyone's happy lalalalalala the end.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why everyone was so skeptical of me in the comments on the last chapter. It's totally 9 more chapters of fluff, I swear! :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
> 
> (Just admit it, you want the pain ;))

Steve sighed softly into Tony's pillow, and Tony chuckled, pulling another armful of t-shirts out of the closet and tossing them in the suitcase that lay open next to Steve's hip. "How long?" Steve asked again.

"Four days, maybe. Hopefully less," Tony repeated. 

Steve hummed wordlessly in reply, and Tony reached out and landed a soft hand on the small of his back. "Don't go," Steve slurred into the pillow.

Tony chuckled. "It's not that long. You're just needy cause you're under."

"Always needy," Steve replied petulantly, still not moving.

Tony turned back to his packing, trying and failing to focus on how many socks he'd need when a shirtless Steve Rogers was sprawled out across his bed. They'd been seeing each other more nights than not over the past three weeks, and Tony had to admit, having a regular sub was incredible. The background anxiety and frustration of a service like Subscene felt like a thing of the past. And it was more than just their four-times weekly scenes together; they shared little moments throughout the day that kept them both grounded, a passing touch, a glance. Tony didn't know it could be like that, especially not without a contract. And that was something Steve hadn't brought up again. Thank god.

Tony had never thought four days in L.A. could feel like a long time, but this was going to be a difficult trip. "I have to go. There's so much I left there when I ran to New York, and too much of it is stuff I can't risk other people seeing." Tony took a steadying breath. "Obie's things…"

"Hmm?" Steve rolled onto his side, brow pinched with confused concern. 

"Don't worry about it. Come here." Tony crooked a finger, and Steve knee-walked across the mattress to stop in front of him. "Hmm." Tony took hold of his chin and turned it this way and that, examining Steve's eyes and enjoying the blush the heavy attention brought to his cheeks. "Think it's time you came up."

Steve frowned. "Just a little longer? Please?" He batted his eyelashes, and Tony snorted, the sultry effect somewhat ruined by his cheeky smirk.

"Until I'm done packing." Tony let Command seep in. "And then that's it. No begging."

"Yes, Tony." Steve sunk back down, curling around Tony's suitcase and watching intently as Tony shoved his clothes in the bottom, running through the checklist in his head. Tony tugged a few boxes of cufflinks out of his top drawer then paused, eyes settling on a wooden box at the back. 

"There's something I'd like you to do for me, while I'm gone…" he mused.

Steve cocked his head, waiting for an explanation, but Tony shook his head. 

"I'll tell you when you're up. I want you to choose it."

"Okay."

They hung in comfortable silence while Tony finished packing. He had Steve push the top of his suitcase down while he tugged the zipper closed then he pulled it off the bed and wheeled it over to the door. He came back to Steve. "Time to come up, sweet thing."

Steve pouted again - too adorable - then nodded. He slid off the bed to stand in front of Tony.

"How do you feel?" Tony asked.

"Good. Amazing. Perfect." Steve's haze deepened.

Tony sat on the edge of the bed and guided Steve to his knees in front of him. "Tell me a story."

Steve blinked at him. "Pardon?"

It was an unusual way to bring a sub up, and one Tony hadn't used very often, but he felt the urge to do it now, and he ran with it. "Tell me a story. About you. A piece of your history. It doesn't have to be deeply personal, or anything, just focus on the story and getting the details right."

Steve swallowed. "Um, okay." He settled his palms on his knees and closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, then he opened them again. "Bucky had an aunt that lived upstate, in a small town," he began, voice soft. "When we were school-aged, his parents would drive us up there a few times in the summer and leave us there. His aunt was kind of crazy, but fun, but she also left us alone to wander the little town a lot of the time."

Steve paused, and Tony reached out and petted his fingers through his hair once then let his hand fall away again. 

"Once… once we happened to be there when the fair was in town. They had a fair every fall - quilting competitions and pie baking awards and stuff. And there was a midway. We couldn't afford the tickets, but Bucky snuck us into the midway between two game stands, then between the two of us we charmed out way onto almost every ride in the fair. It was later on, and there was no line, so I don't think they really cared, but we thought we were so smooth, scamming all these rides out of the carnies."

Tony chuckled. "I would have liked to see that."

Steve shook his head with a smile, and when his eyes opened again they were a little clearer. Tony could see the memories playing in front of him like film reels, the room gone. "I threw up. There was this one that had, like, octopus arms that waved all around -" Steve demonstrated, waving his arms around ridiculously "- and it was too much for my poor sickly stomach. Especially, combined with the hot dogs we'd scraped together enough change from the cupholders of Auntie's car to buy. So yeah… I threw up. And then we spent the rest of the evening sitting in the corner of the building full of birds for the chicken competition, listening to them squawk and choosing our favourites."

They were quiet for a long time. "That sounds like a nice night, vomit notwithstanding."

Steve's smile deepened. "It was." He brought his eyes up from the floor and they were clear and unhazed, but bright and maybe a little damp. "It really was."

"I'm sorry," Tony said quietly, but Steve shook his head, dismissing the apology.

"It's good to talk about him, honestly. Sometimes I feel like he wasn't real because I'm the only one who remembers him. His family is gone, my Ma is gone. It's just me - what if I made him up, you know? So it's good. Makes him real again."

"You can tell me. I mean, I don't mind, if you have things you want - have to - talk about."

"Thank you, Tony. Really, I appreciate your friendship more than I can say."

Tony churned that thought around in his mind, confused and uncertain about the word "friendship." Steve was his friend, of course he was, but there was something off about saying it out loud like that; it felt underlined and italicized, even though Steve hadn't put any emphasis on it at all. "Of course," Tony muttered awkwardly, his fingers twitching out to card through Steve's hair again then snapping back to his side instead. "Are you safe?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." Steve climbed up and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Tony. Worry creeped in at his edges. "I'm going to miss you while you're gone."

"I'll miss you too." Tony preened at the thought that Steve might be here, thinking about him. He firmly pushed his aimless worrying away. He was just bothered about them being apart for an unknown length of time - now that he was used to a regular sub, it was hard to adjust to the thought of being without. "I have something I'd like you to do, if you're up for it."

"Of course."

Tony opened the drawer again and took out the wooden box. Nestled inside was a metal bar, thin and short but heavy, just about the width of Tony's palm and the diameter of a nickel. Tony's token. He only had the one, and he'd never given it to anyone. The metal caught the light, gleaming. "I'd like to give this to you," Tony explained, "and I want you to keep it with you while I'm gone, in your pocket, in your hand, tied into your shoelaces, I don't really care, but I want you to be able to touch it easily at any time."

Steve nodded slowly, eyes wide and fixed on the metal bar.

"It doesn't do anything. Just metal. But I want you to keep it, touch it, and think about me." Tony lifted the token out of the box and dropped it into Steve's waiting palm, watching his hand bounce then tense up against the sudden weight. 

"It's heavy."

"It's  _ noticeable,"  _ Tony said with an eyebrow cocked. "So you don't forget."

Steve swallowed heavily and snapped his eyes from the metal to Tony's. "I won't forget." 

"I know. You'll be good for me while I'm gone." Tony ran his thumb along the jut of Steve's jaw. "It'll help, knowing you've got this with you. It'll be easier to do what I need to do and get back home."

"I'll do it. I'll keep it with me the whole time. And - uh - you can call me?"

Tony smiled. "Okay, I will. Thank you."

Steve's fingers closed around the metal bar. 

**

The hot sun of Malibu felt oppressive for the first time in Tony's life. He'd always loved SoCal, loved the heat and the sand and endless ocean, but it felt sweaty and cloying and stole his breath when he stepped off the plane onto the steaming tarmac.

For the hundredth time, he thought about Steve, back at home, with Tony's token in his pocket. He'd never had occasion to use it before, never having had the same sub twice, but he'd bought it, or maybe it had been a gift from someone, long enough ago that he didn't really remember. He saw it every time he opened that drawer, though, and now when he saw it, he'd think of Steve. 

When this inevitably ended, he should give it to him, he thought, with a twinge of pain. He'd never be able to hand it to someone else; Steve should keep it.

Maybe Steve wouldn't want it, once he'd found the perfect Dom who could take care of him properly.

"Mr. Stark!"

Tony spun on his heel to see Pepper hustling across the tarmac impressively in thirty-seven inch heels, one hand pressing her tablet case against her hair to keep it from blowing too wild. 

"Ms. Potts!" Tony opened his arms, and Pepper slotted easily into them, hugging him tightly for a moment before leaning back and giving him an appraising look. 

"You look tired."

"You look beautiful, as always," Tony quipped back, dropping his sunglasses from his head to his nose. "But, you know, thank you for the constructive criticism." 

She smacked him with her tablet case. "You know what I mean."

"You mean, I'm old. Old and haggard."

She laughed lightly and slipped her arm through his, leading the way to the sleek, black car that waited out front. "I mean - are you eating your vegetables, young man?"

"I'm having lots of… uh… corn…"

"We've had this conversation before, Tony, and vodka doesn't count as a vegetable, no matter what it's made from."

"I've missed you. Come to New York."

"I've missed you, too. And you know I can't."

"I know." They slid into the car side by side. As much as Tony wanted Pepper where he was, it as invaluable having her here. While SI had a New York branch, the board members mostly lived in California, as did the investors, and Pepper stayed the face of things here while Tony ran off to be a superhero. He still had his hands full, but he'd be drowning without Pepper. Still, sometimes he needed to be here. Sometimes for less than savory reasons.

"Are you okay?" She asked softly. "I mean, are you up for this? I can hold them off longer."

"No, no." Tony grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'd rather get it over with. I'm always worried someone's going to find something, you know? I want him out of the building, all of him. I want someone else in that office. It's the best damn office in the building." Tony looked at Pepper. "You should have it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Then it'll make me happy when I go there instead of… whatever it is I feel."

"Okay. Thank you."

"You'll redecorate, right?"

"Oh yes, of course."

"Good."

"Cause it's - with all the wood…"

"Yeah. No. I'll redecorate."

"Okay. Good." 

Pepper squeezed his hand back and didn't let it go for the entire trip to the office. Tony had his bags brought to Malibu Point and left with the staff there, who were cleaning and cooking and airing out the place. By the time he went home, it'd look like it'd been happily lived in for the past year instead of all but abandoned. 

He took the elevator to the top floor with Pepper and she hovered nervously at his side while he unlocked the door to Obie's office. The nameplate had been taken off the door, two ugly screw holes all that remained, but inside hadn't been touched since Obie had fallen to his death. Tony pushed the door open and stared at the desk, inbox still brimming with papers, a chess set in the corner halfway through a game. Tony wondered who he'd been playing with. Wondered if there was someone out there who was sad to see him dead, after all.

"Do you want me to stay and help?" Pepper offered quietly.

"Nah, it's okay, Pep. You go run the company. I'll be alright."

"Okay. Board meeting is at three, don't forget. Need to give everyone a quality reason to drag you out to the west coast."

Tony shot her a brilliant smile. "Visiting you isn't quality enough?"

One of her perfectly-tweezed eyebrows shot up. "Historically, no, it hasn't been."

Tony swallowed heavily. "Message received. Will visit more."

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Let me know if you need anything. There are boxes in the closet and anything you leave by the door here will go to the secure shredders."

"Okay, thanks, Pep. You're a lifesaver." He turned to her, catching her eye. "Literally."

She patted his arm and turned back to the elevator, leaving Tony to his task. He grabbed two empty boxes from the closet and closed the office door behind him, locking himself in with Obie's ghost. 

The office hadn't changed in years, really, besides regular upgrades in technology. Tony had been coming here since the building went up when he was thirteen. He'd sat on the faded leather couch when it was bright and stiff and new. He stared at it now, only realizing when his fingers started to ache that he'd been drumming them against the arc reactor.

He had to clean things out. That was why he was here, not to stand around, caught in some twisted false-nostalgia cycle. It wasn't like he'd ever been happy here. 

Tony started with the books, grabbing a few to keep, making a stack of ones that were his father's that Obie had taken when he died. He left the others to be cleared out by the cleaning crew. He put Obie's laptop in his briefcase to take home with him and wipe. There was a dead plant by the window…

Tony did three more loops of the office before he stopped in front of the filing cabinet. "Fuck you," he told it. "Obie's dead. None of this matters."

The filing cabinet didn't reply.

Tony tugged the top drawer open and grabbed a stack of files from the front. He dropped them on the floor then slid down the wall until he was sitting. He pulled the first file off the stack.  _ Manuals,  _ it said. That was easy. He flipped through it, but there was nothing worth keeping. He tossed the whole folder in the shred box. 

_ Taxes,  _ said the next one. Tony tucked that in his briefcase, too. Obie had hidden his embezzlement well, and with Pepper's help, they'd managed to cover most of it up, but if Tony ever needed to prove in court what had happened - which he hoped to his very core would never be the case - he needed proof that Obie was the one dealing arms on the black market, not him.

There were a few more simple, personal folders - phone bills and gas receipts - and then Tony flipped over to the next folder and froze.

_ Tony. _

Tony's stomach churned, threatening a reappearance of the coffee and cookies he'd had on the plane. He shoved the folder off the stack and off to the side.  _ Photos,  _ the next one said. He lifted the edge tentatively, and there was a shot of Howard and Obie, on the day this building was officially opened, grinning ear-to-ear, side-by-side. Tony's mother probably took the photo, he mused. She was the photographer in the family, which meant he had little to remember her by. He was in the photo too, at the front between them. Obie's hand rested heavily on his shoulder. It wasn't visible in the grainy shot from the early 80s, but Tony knew his shirt was creased from Obie's fingertips digging in, holding him fast.

He slammed the folder shut and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. He turned until his cheek pressed against the cool paint and that gentle relief chased away some of the nausea. He could get in touch with "Call me Paul, Mr. Stark," the therapist, and it would almost certainly make this easier. But it'd also make it longer, and Tony didn't want to stay in LA longer than he had to. Paul would insist he make an appointment and come in and talk to him and - Tony started sweating at the thought. Therapy had helped, but it was absolute torture and never got easier. 

Tony pushed the photo folder on top of the Tony folder, and revealed the last one in the stack.  _ Subs.  _

He stood up and walked out of the room. 

The hallway wasn't nearly long enough, but after seven passes up and down, Tony was pretty sure he wasn't going to throw up. But he couldn't do this. He couldn't look through those folders and see the pages Obie had saved about him, find his father's signature at the bottom of too many stacks of paper. He couldn't look at the contracts Obie had had with his subs, couldn't learn their names, wonder what they went through. 

He shoved all the folders back in the filing cabinet, locked the door, and ran down the stairs to his own office. He spent the remaining time before the board meeting clearing his mind so the tremor in his hand would be gone and he'd get some colour back in his cheeks. 

He suffered through several hours of boring droning on from board members and then bolted back to his house before Pepper could catch him and ask how the cleaning was going.

Just as he predicted, the Malibu mansion was clean and fresh and beautiful when he arrived, the back windows open and letting salty, ocean air waft in. He sat out on the patio for a long time, listening to the waves crash against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. When his stomach ached, Tony shuffled back into the kitchen. The fridge was full of prepared food, with plates of fruit and vegetables, bright and gleaming, but Tony couldn't eat any of it. He made coffee, drank two mugs, then nibbled on a dry granola bar he found in the cupboard without checking the expiry date. 

Tony paced back and forth across the room with his third cup of coffee then tugged his phone out and hit speed dial. It was five rings before Steve answered. "Tony?"

"Hey, Steve. What's up?"

"I was just watching the game. About to head to bed, soon."

"Oh, right. Time zones." Tony checked the clock. It was after 11 in New York. "Sorry."

"That's okay. It's really good to hear your voice. Everything going okay there?"

"Yeah. It's fine. Meetings and stuff. It's tiring, but it's okay. I just - I just wanted to - uh - check up on everyone."

There was a pause. "Everyone's great. We've been doing our training drills. And we watched a movie tonight. That was nice." Another pause. "I have the token you gave me. I keep it in my pocket."

Heat flushed through Tony's entire body. "Good boy," he murmured, more out of instinct than anything, and Steve sucked in a sharp breath. "We can't - I mean I can't really bring you down over the phone, you know? It's not safe," Tony said, an apology.

"I know. I get it. I just miss you. But it's nice having this with me. Like you left a piece of you here."

_ More than a piece,  _ Tony thought. And there was more than a piece of him stuck here in LA too. He'd always been broken, but the piece he'd left in New York was one he desperately wanted to be reunited with. "That's good," he breathed.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, and Tony thought he'd be sick to death of hearing that question thrown at him, but Steve asked it like he really cared what the answer was, and for the first time, Tony couldn't lie.

"Not really. I can't give you the details, it's SI stuff, but this week is going to be stressful, has already been stressful. And I think it's only going to get worse. Plus, I'm probably going to have to be here longer than I thought." A lot longer if he couldn't bring himself to sort more than a folder a day.

"Sorry. Wish I could help."

"You are helping, honest. Just knowing -" Tony cut himself off before he could say  _ just knowing you're at home waiting for me.  _

"I know. Me too."

"Okay." Now he was the one okay-ing. Rhodey would be proud. "I should let you go to bed. I should also eat something."

"You should. I hope the rest of your meetings aren't as stressful as you think."

"Thank you. Goodnight."

"Night."

The phone clicked as it disconnected and Tony paced back and forth a few times, suddenly full of a strange energy he didn't know how to use. 

But, actually, he did know how to use it.

He called a cab and had it bring him back to the office. It was dark and quiet, everyone gone home for the night to be with their families. Tony took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He was going to get through this if it killed him. He was going to excise Obie from his life, cut him out, no matter how much it bled. Because Obie was dead, and Tony was free from him. He had Iron Man, he had the Avengers, he had SI, and he had Steve at home holding onto his token; he didn't need to keep carrying the weight of Obie's hand for the rest of his life.

He opened the first drawer of the filing cabinet and started to sort.

**

Six long days later, Tony dragged his suitcase out of the elevator and back into his penthouse at Avengers Tower.

He'd planned to text Steve on the ride back from the airport, tell him to be waiting on his knees in Tony's bedroom when he got back, like he'd been there all week. The thought still made Tony's mouth water, but it also made his stomach churn. He was in no place to bringing someone down, too scattered and untethered, dark, pus-filled thoughts oozing into his mind whenever he left it unattended. 

He dumped his bags by the door, stripped down to bare skin and climbed straight in the shower, turning it up as hot as he could stand. Clean, he pulled on boxers, had JARVIS turn the heat down, then crawled into bed with two extra blankets. 

Strangely, sleep came quickly, the jet lag enough to confuse his body into giving in and collapsing immediately, but the sandman wasn't kind. 

A large hand pressed down hard on the top of Tony's head, driving him to his knees, despite the hot rage that welled inside him. He bit his lip hard enough to bleed, using the coppery taste to ground him and keep him from lashing out. It wasn't worth it. Fighting back was never worth it. If he gave in and did what he wanted, he wouldn't be punished and everything would be so much easier…

Tony shocked awake with a gasp, his hand jerking towards the ghostly press that bent his neck, but finding nothing there. His chest ached with the rapid pound of his heart against the arc reactor and he rubbed his fingers over the scars, alighting the sensitive nerves. "Fuck -" He sat up and folded forward, focusing on the softness of the duvet against his forehead. "JARVIS -"

JARVIS was quiet for a moment, apparently waiting for the rest of Tony's question. When none came, he prompted, "Sir?"

"Is - Is Steve awake?" Tony tried. It wasn't comfort, it wasn't care; Tony needed to feel in control again, and Steve would give him that. 

"No, sir, I'm afraid he fell asleep a few hours ago."

"Ah. Okay." Tony's hand started to shake against his knee and it rattled down his spine into a full-body shiver. "Shit."

"If I may," JARVIS offered, "Captain Rogers informed me some time ago that he wished to be at your beck and call, should you need anything. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that he was available to be summoned at any time, day or night."

The heat of that thought chased away the chill and left Tony sweating. Beck and call? That was all too tempting. "Really?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm sure if I woke him, for you, he'd be unbothered."

"Okay…" It didn't seem fair to wake Steve up and bring him all the way up to Tony's penthouse in the middle of the night and then not bring him down, but maybe that was what Tony needed, as much as he needed the presence of his sub at his feet. Control. He could claw that back. "Okay. Uh - ask him to come here."

What felt like an hour but was likely only a few minutes passed. Then JARVIS said, "Captain Rogers is on his way. I instructed him to go straight through to the bedroom."

"Thank you, J."

"My pleasure, as always, sir."

Tony waited, trying not to fidget, until he heard the elevator hum to a stop and the apartment door open. A moment later, Steve appeared in the door frame, arms tucked behind his back, chin down. 

"Tony?" he asked, looking up through his eyelashes, every inch the perfect sub, despite his broad shoulders and strong stance. "Are you okay?" He frowned, and Tony wondered how awful he looked. Steve had likely been expecting a plane-ruffled Tony looking for a little scene-time before crashing, not a sweaty, trembling, post-nightmare Tony looking for - something.

"Hey, Steve," Tony tried. "Sorry to wake you."

"It's fine. I'm here for whatever you need."

"I need -" Tony blinked up at the ceiling. He wanted to be the strong, good Dom who took proper care of his sub. He wanted to offer Steve comfort and release after being apart for a week. But all he  _ really _ wanted was Steve's warm weight against his side, and some dreamless sleep. "I just need you here, with me."

"Of course." Steve pulled his shirt off, leaving his pajama pants on, and crawled up the bed next to Tony. He shuffled under the covers then curled around him, head on Tony's chest and firm arm wrapped around his waist. Tony could feel the weight of the token still clutched in Steve's hand where it pressed against his side, and it made something flutter behind his ribs. "Welcome home."

Tony hooked his shoulders and pulled him even closer, tipping his head in to breathe in the soft citrus scent of Steve's shampoo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <333


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really honestly believe that 16 is the final chapter count. I only have one whole chapter left to write and two half-chapters so I'm Pretty Sure. But I've probably just fucked myself over by saying that. *sob-laughing*

"The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago." Rumlow had pointedly been avoiding both Tony and Steve's eyes since they boarded the quinjet together.

"Any demands?" Steve asked.

"A billion and a half."

"Why so steep?" Tony chimed in.

"Because it SHIELD's."

"So it's not off-course, it's trespassing." Steve tugged his gloves on.

Natasha shrugged. "I'm sure they have a good reason."

"You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor."

"Relax, it's not that complicated." Natasha smiled at Steve in a way that made Tony's stomach twist up. Things were so easy between them, their friendship just falling into place after their time in D.C. together. But Natasha was still a bit of a mystery to Tony, holding the Avengers at arm's length, refusing to leave SHIELD, and Tony was jealous - both of how easily Steve trusted the Black Widow, and how simple their friendship seemed to be.

Steve rolled his eyes at her then turned back to Rumlow, jaw tensing again. "How many pirates?"

"Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc." Brock pointed to the monitor. "Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties."

Tony cut in again. "Hostages?"

"Mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell. They're in the galley."

Steve's face snapped into the expression Tony had dubbed Action-Mode in his head. The kind of jaw-set and dark eyes that made people think he was a Dom. "Alright, Iron Man and I are gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Widow, you'll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, your team sweeps aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get 'em out. Let's move."

Tony really should not have found that as appealing as he did. 

Rumlow's voice cut in before Tony's mind could wander down any truly dangerous paths. "STRIKE, you heard Cap. Gear up."

"Hey, Rumlow?" Rollins gestured towards Tony. "Didn't he drop you off a balcony that one time?"

Tony rotated slowly on his heel and found Rumlow's eye, grinning like a shark. 

"That was a joke," Rumlow growled, dropping Tony's gaze almost immediately. "He was just fucking around."

"Good times!" Tony said brightly, and Rumlow flinched. 

Natasha's voice pulled Tony's attention back to the other side of the quinjet. "You know, if you ask Kristen from Statistics to scene, she'd probably say yes."

Steve dropped his shield onto his back then hit the rear hatchway release. "That's why I don't ask."

"Too shy or too scared?" Natasha asked, laughter in her voice.

Steve eyes jumped over her shoulder and landed on Tony. Their gazes held for a moment, electricity crackling between them. "Too busy!" He stepped backwards and jumped, disappearing into the dark, night sky.

"Was he wearing a parachute?" Rollins asked uncertainly.

Tony snapped the faceplate down and turned to face them, stepping back to the edge of the hatch ramp. The suit powered up with a whine, reactor glowing brightly in his chest. "I'm his parachute," Tony bit out, and he tipped backwards out of the quinjet.

The freefall sent adrenaline shooting through Tony's veins, and for a moment, he let the rush take him. Then he turned and angled himself, firing the repulsors to propel him towards Steve's descending body. Tony swooped low and hooked his arms under Steve's, slowing them both down as silently as possible. The roar of the water blocked out the roar of the repulsors, and Tony curled around the outside of the ship then shot forward onto the deck, dropping Steve deftly on his feet behind one of the unsuspecting pirates. 

Tony flew back out around the side of the ship, but he looked back and caught sight of Steve tearing his way through the guards that dotted the deck. He was a machine, brilliant and smooth and calculated.  _ Mine,  _ roared in Tony's chest and he tamped it down, turning back to his mission at hand. If he didn't do his part, Steve would be in danger, and if failing the mission wasn't enough to motivate him, that was.

"J, line me up some targets." Tony's HUD leapt to life and he got to work.

Steve cleared the deck along the starboard side, and Tony shot around to port, arming his missiles. One by one, the pirates fell. When the whole upper deck was cleared, Natasha and the STRIKE team landed as one, dropping their parachutes and swarming the ship. 

"What about that nurse from D.C?" Natasha offered, continuing their conversation where it lfeet off. Tony had a feeling it was a conversation that had started quite some time ago. 

Steve rolled his eyes again. "Secure the engine room. Then find me a Dom."

"I'm multitasking!" She leapt over a railing. 

Tony ground his teeth and resisted the urge to charge after her, pin her to the wall, and hiss out  _ he has a Dom.  _ Because he didn't. They didn't have a contract, and Tony would never be able to give him one. No, it was better to keep this what it was: unattached, uncommitted, unimportant. If Steve wanted to find a Dom who could contract with him, it was all for the best; Tony wanted him to be happy.

Still, the desire to cut Natasha's matchmaking off at the knees wasn't easy to suppress.

Tony forced himself back into the fight. Natasha hit the engine room while STRIKE made their way down to the galley to free the hostages. Tony and Steve split apart and took the lower deck, working their way along either side towards the rendezvous point.

Tony rounded a corner just in time to see Steve tug his helmet off, the shield on his back, facing down Batroc. Steve charged and they collided, fists flying. 

"Fuck that," Tony muttered to himself. He banked hard then shot across the deck, not slowing as he spun between Steve and Batroc and collided with the pirate, rocketing them both over a railing and through the door to the control room.

Tony slammed him into the ground and Batroc fell still under him, unconscious. Steve's heavy footfalls pattered up behind him. "Iron Man. What are you - What?"

Tony looked up to see what had cut off Steve's sentence, to find Natasha calmly bent over a computer console, typing. She looked up at them. "Well, this is awkward."

"What are you doing?" Steve panted out between heaving breaths. 

Tony kicked at the unconscious Batroc then pulled himself to his feet. 

Natasha smiled cooly. "Backing up the hard drive. It's a good habit to get into."

"We needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?"

Tony crossed the room and peered over Natasha's shoulder, rolling the helmet back into the suit. File names flashed across the screen as they copied over to the flash drive. "You're saving SHIELD Intel."

"Whatever I can get my hands on."

"Our mission is to rescue hostages." Steve reminded her through gritted teeth.

"No. That's your mission." She straightened up and pulled the flash drive out of the computer. "And you've done it beautifully."

Steve grabbed her arm as she turned to go. "You just jeopardized this whole operation."

"I think that's overstating things."

A growl from behind them snapped all three sets of eyes to the broken door where Batroc was hauling himself to his feet. Something flashed in his hand, and he tossed it to the ground before bolting out of the room. A grenade.

"Fuck!" Tony charged forward towards the grenade, throwing his metal-clad body between it and Steve and Natasha.

"Tony!' Steve yelled, then the grenade exploded.

Tony was thrown backwards, slamming him into the control bank along the far wall and rattling him inside the armour. He groaned, pain shuddering through his muscles as his nerves lit up and got with the program. He pushed himself to his feet to find Steve uncurling from behind the shield, Nat tucked down into his hold. They were okay. Tony breathed out a heavy sigh.

Steve took Tony's hand and pulled him to his feet, concerned eyes raking over him. "You alright?"

"Fine." Everything ached, and he expected he'd be one giant bruise in the morning, but the suit had taken the brunt of the blast and nothing was burned or broken.

"Okay. That was on me," Natasha groaned, rolling her shoulder. 

"Yeah," Tony bit out. "You're damn right, It was."

**

Tony wasn't surprised when there was a knock on his door, only a few minutes after he arrived back at the tower. "Let him in," he said to JARVIS, and the door swung in.

Steve shuffled in, concerned eyes raking over Tony's rumpled, torn undersuit. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He ran his fingers back through his hair and winced when it was crunchy. "Just dirty. And tired."

"Right. Of course. I - uh."

Tony eyed him carefully. "You're here to scene?"

"Only if you want to. I can go. You're tired."

"No - I - It would be nice, actually." Tony sighed with his whole body, but it didn't relax him, only made him feel tenser. "I have to clean up first, though." He lifted his glass to his lips, trying to will himself off to the shower. Instead, he downed the rest of his drink with a groan. The bathroom seemed so far away.

Steve approached and moved to drop to his knees by the couch, but Tony held out a hand to stop him. "No. If you kneel for me here, I'll never make it to the shower." He still didn't move.  _ Come on. Move.  _

"I could, um." Steve shuffled a little where he stood, then snapped his hands behind his back. "I could help you. If you'd like that."

"Help me bathe?" Tony asked, an eyebrow quirking up.

"Yes. If you'd like. I'm - I'm good at it. It's one of the few things I know I'm good at. And I'd like to." His voice dropped low. "I want to be good for you, Tony."

Tony shivered. "Always good," he murmured, eyes dropping closed. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Tony tried to consider it, but really his mind was made up the second Steve had offered. He wanted to believe it had nothing to do with having Steve's hands on his bare skin for once instead of the other way around, but he couldn't stop imagining those fingers brushing down the length of his leg. "Okay." Tony snapped his eyes open and fixed Steve with his firm gaze. "Run a bath. Hot. Put a towel on the heater and pick a bottle from the shelf in the shower to add to the water. When it's ready, come back and get me."

"Yes, Tony." Steve blinked once and when his eyes opened again, they were heavy with the haze of oncoming subspace. He was so easy, so open. 

Tony ran his hands through his hair again, breathing out sharply when Steve turned and left the room. This was - this was getting more and more dangerous. The feeling welling up in Tony's chest was too much  _ mine,  _ and terrifyingly fond. 

Tony let himself drift, pointedly not thinking about Steve, until a hand landed on his knee and he opened his eyes to find Steve crouched by his feet, smiling softly. "It's ready," he said.

Tony held out his hand and let Steve lever him to his feet, not holding back his groan when his sore muscles protested. 

Steve frowned. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"Not in any way that matters," Tony assured him. "Just battered up. Come on." He led the way to the bathroom to find the lights low, the heated floors warm under his toes, and the towel rack ticking in the corner. The water was bubbly and smelled like oranges. And Steve had this little, pleased expectation curling the corners of his mouth - hopeful and grateful and waiting for Tony's approval. "Perfect. Thank you."

Steve beamed. "Shall I?" His hands twitched in Tony's direction, and Tony spread his arms wide in offering. Steve found the zipper pull of his undersuit and dragged it down Tony's chest. It was painfully intimate, charged, but in a peaceful way that made it all too easy to sink down into the crackling electricity between them and let it tingle Tony's skin.

Steve's knuckles brushed Tony's stomach as he tugged the zipper the rest of the way down, and Tony's abs twitched away. "Sorry," Steve murmured, using his fingers to pinch the fabric and tent it away from Tony's skin. 

Tony closed his hand around Steve's wrist and guided him the rest of the way down. "It's okay." He wriggled his shoulders out of the top then pulled each arm through, letting Steve hold the end of the sleeves to give him leverage. "Usually, I don't let anyone watch me get out of this thing," he said with a chuckle. 

But Steve's eyes darkened, flickering over Tony's bare chest before settling on the arc reactor. Pink watercolour brushed across his cheeks. Tony could Command him to stop, make it clear that that kind of appreciation wasn't what they were here for, but it felt too good, having Steve's eyes drink him in, in the way he'd been drinking in Steve for weeks now. It was deeply unfair to Steve to encourage it. It was deeply unfair to Steve to encourage any of this.

Tony couldn't stop.

Steve rolled the undersuit down over Tony's hips and dropped to his knees, taking it with him. He lifted each of Tony's feet and worked the fabric over them until Tony was standing in nothing but his red, cotton briefs. Steve kept his eyes fixed on the floor, blush deepening, even as he struggled obviously to look unaffected. Tony put him out of his misery, dropping his briefs unceremoniously and stepping out of them. He put his foot in the tub and hissed when the hot water seared up around his bruised ankle.   

Steve shuffled up against the edge of the tub and waited, arms folded over the edge, while Tony eased himself down with a groan. 

_ "Fuck." _

"Is it too hot?"

"No. It's perfect." Tony worked his eyes open and found Steve's concerned face. His fingers twitched out into Steve's hair on their own. "Thank you."

Steve smiled sloppily, subspace already softening his edges, like melting butter. He reached for a washcloth and Tony couldn't help flinching away when Steve moved towards him. "Do you not want -?"

"There's just - There's a thing."

"Okay," Steve said, open and honest and waiting.

"Don't -" Tony debated whether to make this a Command or not, but he wanted to make sure Steve knew this wasn't part of the scene, a boundary for him to focus on, to sink him deeper, but that it was something Tony needed. There was no way he was going to have a panic attack while sceneing. He was responsible for Steve's welfare; he had to stay with it. "Don't put pressure on my head with your hand," he said, clearly and clinically. "Don't push me towards the water. Don't pour water on my face. If I have my eyes closed, tell me where you're going to touch me before you do."

Steve flickered up a little as he considered what Tony had said, slow dawning realization rolling through the haze of his spaced out expression. "Okay, Tony," he said softly. "I will."

And Tony realized that he'd never had to ask that of anyone before. He'd never done this, not just since Afghanistan, but ever. Never had a sub bathe him, soft and warm and indulgent. He'd shared a shower with countless subs from Subscene, but he'd never asked one to take the time and care to focus on cleaning him. If Steve hadn't offered, would it ever have occurred to Tony to ask?

Satisfied by Steve's earnestness that he wouldn't forget, Tony leaned back in the tub and let his eyes fall closed. 

"I'm going to start with your feet," Steve said carefully.

"Okay."

Steve hand rippled the water then landed on Tony's ankle. He eased his knee bent, lifting his leg out of the tub, but holding all its weight, just above the water. Just like they had before, Steve worked the washcloth over Tony's skin, but this time, when he was finished with Tony's foot, he worked his way up his leg, stopping just above the knee to swap to the other leg. 

Tony was rarely a passive Dom, preferring to have his sub under his hands, being guided and shaped and controlled. But this was… Nice was the only word for it. It was nice to be touched, it was nice to be quiet and still, and it was nice not to have to worry or even think about whether Steve was okay, was enjoying himself. He was serving Tony, but he was still in control, in a way, and that was freeing, somehow. 

Tony flinched away from the thought so violently that his body actually jerked in the tub, and Steve startled back. "Sorry," Tony muttered hastily, scrubbing a wet, soapy hand over his face. "Sorry."

"Did I - what did I do? Was I too close to the - uh -?" Steve stilled, his hand floating aimlessly in the water near Tony's chest. Tony realized he'd been working his way up to the arc reactor.

"No, no. It wasn't you. You're perfect. I was - uh - I kind of dozed a bit and startled myself awake."

"Oh."

"You can touch it." Tony took Steve's wrist and guided his hand to the glass surface of the arc reactor. The light split and danced between Steve's fingers, scattering in the rippling water. "That wasn't on the list of rules."

"Wow." Steve blinked down at him. "I can't believe you built this. I can't believe it's - it's inside you."

"It's just a glorified pacemaker," Tony said with a shrug. 

"It's incredible."

"You're incredible," Tony murmured back, before he could stop himself.

Steve blinked soft eyes up at him and smiled. He was gorgeously out of it, and Tony let himself fall into that. This was for both of them. There was no point in Tony ruining it for himself worrying about giving too much away. Anything went, in a scene like this, and it wasn't like Tony hadn't been affectionate before, dropping compliments and pet names. That was just the way he was.

"Don't stop," Tony Commanded, relaxing back into the steamy water, and Steve set to work again.

Tony lost track of time, lost track of everything. All he knew was the gentle scrub of the washcloth as Steve worked it over him. When all the dirt and sweat was gone from his skin, leaving only the yellow-purple mottling of the bruises that peppered his body, Steve took a bottle of shampoo and eased Tony forward in the tub, tipping his head back. He carefully described everything he was doing, and when the water poured over Tony's hair and down his back, he was able to easily suppress the frisson of fear that curled up his spine.

Finished, Steve stepped back and took the towel from the heated rack. He stood by the edge of the tub, towel out, closed his eyes and waited. Tony watched him for a moment, soaking up the last of the heat from the bath. 

When he stood, Steve wrapped the towel around him and started rubbing gently, working the water off of Tony's skin with single-minded focus. It was painfully indulgent, being waited on like this. It was almost overwhelming, how good it felt, how talented Steve was at taking care, how easy and free and simple this was. Any residual embarrassment over being naked was long gone. Steve dropped to his knees to dry Tony's legs and feet, then rose again, hovering in wait for a new Command.

"Are you down, sweet thing?" Tony asked, tipping Steve's chin up with one knuckle so he could look in his eyes. They were hazy and unfocused, soft and warm.

"So far," Steve slurred. "So down. Thank you."

Tony chuckled. "No, thank you." He petted his thumb over Steve's cheek. "So beautiful like this." Steve wobbled in towards his touch, and Tony gripped his shoulder. "Come on. Bed."

Steve followed him easily, stripping off his shirt and pants when Tony instructed him to do so. Tony pulled a silk robe off the back of the door, and Steve helped him into it. They climbed into Tony's bed, Steve in his boxers and Tony in his robe. Steve's fingers landed on Tony's stomach as he curled up into his side, and he twitched his fingertips past the fold of silk to find Tony's rapidly-cooling skin. 

They made an easy shape on the bed, wrapped up together, but not sleeping. Steve floated next to him, soft and light in his subspace, and Tony watched, buzzing off the contact high. He felt soft himself, all his pain and tension rubbed out with the washcloth and spiralled down the drain with the dirty bath water. He was squeaky and fresh and weightless, and everything was easy. 

"You're very good at that," Tony said, and Steve smiled.

"I'm glad I could help."

"What am I going to do with you?" tripped off Tony's tongue musingly, and he wished immediately that he could take it back.

Steve tipped his chin up so their faces were only inches apart and stared at Tony, wide-eyed and down deep. "Keep me…" he murmured softly. His gaze flicked to Tony's lips and held for a moment before he leaned in and claimed them. 

God help him, Tony let Steve kiss him for about ten seconds too long. "No," he murmured, finally pulling back. "Bad idea." But Steve blinked at him, lips kiss-pink and needy, eyes utterly transparent, clear blue glass, and Tony absolutely should not have loved what he saw behind them, the want there. "No…" he said again, even as he tugged Steve back down and kissed him again, tongue finding the seam of Steve's lips and tasting it. He was sweet and soft and giving, and Tony's body roared to life. 

Steve moaned, and Tony broke the kiss properly this time, falling back on the pillow and squeezing his eyes shut. A soft, sad noise leaked out of Steve's abandoned lips, and Tony tugged him down onto his chest with a groan. 

"We're not doing that, Steve. That's not why we're here." Tony petted up and down Steve's spine with his fingertips, trying to smooth out the new tension there. "I'm not mad. You've been so good tonight. Always so good. But I can't kiss you, especially not when you're down. We're just helping each other out, okay? Clean scenes only. Do you understand?"

Steve was still for a long, painful moment, then he nodded. "I understand."

The next night Steve was back, lounging at Tony's feet while they watched TV together, the kiss unmentioned, but not forgotten by Tony. It was burned into his memory, bittersweet.

They continued to scene over the next two weeks and Steve didn't try to kiss him again, never brought up wanting more, but every time Steve fell beautifully to his knees at Tony's feet, Tony could feel the weight of an unsigned contract hanging between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for a lot of the dialogue in this one, obviously goes to Winter Soldier :P
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I also want to thank the tumblr post of Tony saying "I'm his parachute" for that idea. I've wanted to put it in a fic for a long time and finally got a chance. I'd link to it, but I can't find it, and tumblr is tumblr so searching is hopeless. If anyone has a link, let me know and I'll add it! It was a two-gif set. Thanks (^_^)~~
> 
> ETA: LionLena found it! Thank you so much. Credit for the I'm his parachute line goes to [this tumblr edit](http://thexstarkest.tumblr.com/post/170646550646/just-because) I saw a long time ago and love!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is on a schedule now! I've only got about 1500 words left to write so I'll be updating this every weekend until it's done. Thanks for reading! <3

Tony startled awake and realized he wasn't alone. There was a curl of soft heat wrapped around his feet. He sat up and peered down in the dark to pick out Steve's shape. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, sprawled out across the foot of Tony's bed.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Steve said, pushing up on one elbow. "I tried so hard not to wake you."

"It's okay," Tony slurred, shaking off the cobwebs of sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I - um."

"Come here." Tony opened his arms, and Steve flowed into them, nestling down under the covers and curling onto Tony's chest.

"Is this really okay?" Steve's voice was tiny and cracked.

"Sure." Tony hugged him closer. It was easy to give in to the closeness of it, in the dark of night with Steve's heat pressed up against his sleep-chilled skin. "Why not?"

Steve was quiet for a long time, and Tony figured he was going to fall asleep without ever explaining what had lured him into Tony's bed at 2 am, but then he whispered, "I dream about it sometimes," and Tony shifted towards awake again. "Rebirth. I feel like there's this voice whispering me down and all I can feel is the heat of it, burning my skin. And it's like I'm going to go down, down, and never be able to come back up."

"I'll bring you back up," Tony promised, his eyes falling shut. "You can go down, Steve. I'll bring you back up."

"Thank you." Steve's voice was soft and right in Tony's ear. He couldn't resist the shiver that rattled down his spine.

Tony was awake for a long time after, stroking his fingers up and down Steve's spine and listening to his breathing for signs of more nightmares. But Steve was sleeping peacefully now, chest rising and falling slowly against Tony's. This was the first time Steve had come to him for comfort in the middle of the night, just wanting to crawl into bed instead of scene. Tony couldn't help but remember the night after he'd come back from LA, when nightmares had haunted him even though Obie's office was empty and ready to be stripped and redone for Pepper.

Tony didn't remember falling asleep, but suddenly it was morning, JARVIS gently bringing the lights up. Steve had shifted away a little in the night, which was all for the best because he burned incredibly hot and Tony usually woke up sweated to the sheets when Steve stayed wrapped around him like an octopus.

Tony slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom where he stuck a toothbrush in his mouth and flicked idly through his emails.

"Good morning."

Tony looked up and found Steve, sleep-rumpled and smiling, standing in the bathroom doorway. "Mur-nuh," Tony said around his toothbrush. He finished brushing and rinsed his mouth then settled his eyes on Steve again. There was something… expectant about him. "Do you want to help me get ready today? I have a work meeting in two hours."

Steve nodded. "Yes, please."

Tony splashed warm water on his face then handed Steve his razor and the shaving cream. He sat on the toilet seat and tipped his chin up. Steve swallowed heavily but nodded again. He sprayed the cream in his hand and his tongue peeked out between his teeth as he rubbed it gently over Tony's cheek.

Steve was slow and cautious with the razor, following the curve of Tony's goatee with super-soldier precision. Tony let his eyes fall shut, dipping into the soft pleasure of being shaved by another hand. Steve's touch was gentle, the towel he used to wipe away the shaving cream warm, and when he was done, Tony felt clean and fresh. He stood to admire himself in the mirror, and Steve hovered beside him, eyes hazed over with oncoming subspace.

"Good job," Tony told him. "You're so good for me."

"Thank you, Tony," Steve breathed.

"I'm going to rinse off. Go lay out my clothes. I need a suit and shoes. JARVIS will help you if you're not sure which ones to pick."

Steve disappeared into the bedroom to obey, and Tony splashed more water on his face. This was far too domestic and far too easy to get used to. He could see this future bloom in front of him. One where Steve shaved him and dressed him every morning before he went to work. What a way to start the day.

But this was only temporary and it was risky to like it too much.

Then again, Steve seemed to be as into it as Tony was. Maybe… maybe there was a chance Tony would get to keep him. He knew he should ask, that the future was something they needed to talk about eventually, but that conversation had a 50-50 chance of ruining things, and things had been _so good._ Tony couldn't bring himself to ruin it by bringing up contracts again.

Back in the bedroom, Tony found Steve on his knees by the bed, next to a pair of Tony's leather shoes, a bottle of shoe polish and a clean cloth. On the bed lay a grey suit, a white shirt, a red, striped tie, a belt, and an undershirt. Tony grabbed underwear from his dresser drawer as he walked past and dropped his pajama pants, pulling on the briefs. Steve kept his eyes lowered to the floor, waiting.

Tony pulled on his pants and the undershirt, then held his arms out for Steve to guide the dress shirt up and over his arms. Tony buttoned and tucked it in, while Steve shook out his jacket and held it open behind him. He smoothed it over Tony's shoulders then came to stand in front of him with Tony's tie in his hand.

Tony tipped his chin up. "Go on."

Steve wrapped it around his neck, tucked it under his collar, then deftly started to tie it.

"Tie a lot of other men's ties?" Tony murmured, and Steve's foggy eyes flicked up to his, hands hesitating for the first time.

"We used to dress each other," Steve said softly, words slurred by subspace. "Bucky and I. One of the ways we staved of subsickness before we had Doms."

"You're very good at it."

The air crackled between them, and Tony had to pinch his tongue between his teeth to keep from shoving forward and catching Steve's lips with his. It was getting harder and harder to resist, now that he knew what kissing Steve felt like. But kissing Steve was too risky, too intimate, and held too much promise in it.

Even as Tony thought it, he knew that this morning was far more intimate than almost anything they'd done together so far, but he didn't know how to pull back, pull up, without leaving Steve behind. It was a vulnerable place for both of them, Steve's subspace, but that was part of what was so appealing about it. Tony had never been able to let go before, really sink into the solid, grounding control of having Steve soft and easy in his hands. He'd never been dressed before, even with friends who had helped him after - after -

Obie.

But here was Steve, carefully wrapping his tie around itself, knuckles gently brushing Tony's chest. It was charged, and far, far too easy to want, all the damn time. It was what it would be like, if Tony was normal, wasn't broken, and could give Steve the signature he needed. Steve's _keep me_ echoed in the back of Tony's mind. God, he wanted to. If only he could.

Tony's hand shook against his thigh and he tucked it in his pocket so Steve wouldn't see it. He took a few deep breaths, trying to reconnect to the moment. He'd preemptively ruined their future, he didn't want to ruin the moments they still had now, as well.

Steve tightened the knot up against his throat then smoothed and crisped everything with his hands. "You look amazing," he breathed.

Tony cupped his jaw and stroked his thumb across his cheek. "Thank you. Shoes?"

Steve dropped to his knees and lifted Tony's shoe into his lap. "I didn't want to polish them first and risk getting stains on your suit," he said. "I hope that's okay."

"That's very thoughtful of you. I'll wait." Tony settled on the edge of the bed and pulled his tablet from the bedside table into his lap. He opened his email and started sorting the day into categories. The rhythmic sounds of Steve rubbing polish into the shoes was soothing, and Tony found himself working at peak efficiency, startling violently when Steve's hand suddenly landed on his ankle.

"Sorry, I -" Steve crinkled. He was holding a polished shoe in his hand, laces open, tongue stretched open.

"No, no. It's fine. You didn't do anything wrong," Tony hastened to assure him. "You're so calming there, I got completely sucked into work." Tony poked his toes into the open shoe. "Thank you."

Steve came back to his happy haze and smiled as he wriggled the shoe up over Tony's heel. He tied it precisely and carefully then held out the other one.

Once Tony was fully dressed, Steve buffed the cloth over each foot a few times then rocked back on his heels and grinned up at him, glowing with satisfaction. "Perfect," Tony told him. "I feel amazing. How do you feel?"

"So good. You look so good. Thank you for letting me help."

"Thank _you."_ Tony snuggled Steve up between his knees and petted through his hair. "Thank you so much."

Steve's, "anything," was muffled where he was pressed into Tony's thigh, his breath hot through the thin fabric of Tony's suit pants.

Tony glanced at the clock and groaned. "I have to bring you up before I leave, sweetheart."

Steve sighed.

"If I didn't have a damn meeting, I'd stay here and keep you down all day, but I can't miss this one."

"It's okay." Steve rested his chin on Tony's knee and blinked up at him. "Whatever you want."

"You're so easy," Tony mused. "Such a gift."

"For you," Steve slurred.

Tony eased him back and tipped his chin up with one knuckle. "What are you going to make for breakfast?"

Steve frowned at the question, clearly trying to puzzle it through but unable to.

"Oatmeal or eggs," Tony narrowed it down.

Steve thought for a moment. "Oatmeal."

"What are you going to put in it?"

"I don't know." He started to drift away.

"What are your choices?"

"Ummm."

"Answer me," Tony Commanded.

"Sugar?" Steve tried. When Tony nodded, he went on. "Yogurt… fruit."

"Which one do you want?"

"I think… yogurt. And berries."

"Sounds good."

"Yeah."

"What should I have for breakfast?"

"Anything that's not coffee."

Tony snorted. He tapped Steve playfully on the back of the head. "Take a shower."

"Will you be here when I come out?"

"Yup. I need to make sure you're up before I leave. So don't dawdle."

"Okay, Tony." Steve pushed to his feet and shuffled off towards the bathroom, subspace still slowing his movements.

Tony packed his briefcase while the shower ran and nibbled on an apple, coffee burbling. He was pouring it into a travel mug when Steve appeared in a cloud of steam, a pair of sweatpants he must have left here pulled on, chest bare.

Tony sipped his coffee and watched the pull of Steve's abs over the rim. Science really had done a good thing with those abs. "You safe?"

Steve nodded, reaching out to rummage through the cupboard where the oats were stored. "I'm good."

His voice was a bit softer than usual, and Tony couldn't get a good look at his face, but Steve was good at judging for himself. "You sure?"

"Yup. You should go to your meeting, Tony. Isn't it soon?"

"Yeah, it is. But if you're not up yet…"

"I'm up." Steve shot him a clear smile and pulled out the jar of oats. He waved them in Tony's directions. "I don't want you to be late."

"Alright." Tony topped off his coffee, sealed it up and grabbed his briefcase. He was leaning in to kiss Steve on the cheek, when he realized what he was about to do, and he twisted and side-stepped around him instead. Steve showed no signs of having realized what Tony's original plan had been, but Tony found the back of his neck heating as he scurried out of the penthouse and into the elevator before Steve could see. Almost anything went, when Steve was under, but once he was up again, they treated each other like little more than friends. There were gentle touches - a brush of the arm or Tony's fingers lingering on the small of Steve's back, but not kissing. Tony stole a kiss from Steve's cheek or forehead, sometimes buried one in his hair, when they were curled up in Tony's bed about to sleep off a scene. But this morning had already been dangerously domestic.

Tony did his best to push Steve from his mind when he reached the SI floors of the building, forcing his head into the right space to focus on work. He was meeting with the CEO and chief designer of a small engineering firm in Virginia that they were hoping to acquire and he had to play this carefully to make sure he got a good deal out of it.

The meeting started out okay, but got more and more tense as it went on. Tony carefully tried to keep the mood light as the CEO's conversation with SI's chief engineer got more and more heated. After an hour, Tony cut them off. "Maybe we should take a break for lunch?"

Everyone grumbled an affirmative and filed out of the room, headed downstairs to the lavish lunchroom. Tony checked his messages while he rode the elevator down, but to his disappointment, there wasn't anything from Steve.

 _This meeting is kicking my ass,_ he texted, hoping to elicit a reply, even a _lol._ They normally traded texts quite a lot throughout the day, especially after they'd scened and had to part.

But Steve didn't text all throughout lunch, and Tony dove back into the meeting feeling unsatisfied and on-edge. They bickered and argued and tried to make it clear that an acquisition would be good for both of them but _no,_ the old company wouldn't stay exactly as it had been without changes. The reason they were acquirable at all was because there were several fronts where they were fucking up quite badly.

Tony's phone buzzed in his pocket and he shifted in his seat and pulled it out as subtly as he could.

 _I'm sorry,_ Steve had texted back.

Tony was typing a response, something along the lines of _Yeah, it sucks, but this morning started me off right,_ when three more texts rolled in, in rapid succession.

_ >> I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _

_ >> I'm so sorry. _

_ >> And you're in an important meeting. _

Tony's heart dropped into his shoes. Steve's first message hadn't been about his meeting at all.

_ << What's wrong? What happened? _

_ >> Tony, I'm so sorry. _

There was a terrifying pause, and then:

_ >> I'm dropping. _

Tony lurched to his feet then stilled as all the eyes in the room snapped to him. He opened his mouth to explain then realized there wasn't a simple explanation. Doms in contracts had free reign to bail out of pretty much anything if their subs needed them or were dropping. But Tony wasn't in a contract, and everyone knew that. If he said his sub was dropping, it would raise all kinds of questions. "I -" He looked down at his phone. He couldn't leave Steve to drop alone, though, he just couldn't. And there was no one else he trusted to take care of him. "I'm so sorry. There's been - There's an Avengers issue. Iron Man is needed. My apologies. I'm going to send someone in to take my seat. Please, continue."

Tony all but ran out of the room.

_ << I'm coming. _

_No, no,_ Steve texted back. _I'm okay. Don't ruin your meeting. Oh god, Tony, I really fucked up. I'm so sorry._

_ << Where are you? _

_ >> I'm still in the penthouse. _

_ << Don't go anywhere. Count how long your breaths in and out are - aim for four seconds of each. I'll be there in two minutes. _

Tony closed the text window without waiting for a reply and sent off four to managing heads of departments, telling them there was an emergency and he needed someone to cover the meeting. Cathy volunteered so Tony sent her in and focused on getting to the private elevator. Thankfully it opened right away and Tony mashed the button for the penthouse.

"Come on, JARVIS," he muttered.

"I am currently instructing Captain Rogers in some breathing exercises, but I fear I'm not much of a comfort, at the moment."

"Is he okay?"

"He seems to be suffering fairly intense symptoms of subdrop. He wouldn't tell me what brought them on. It took quite some convincing to get him to contact you at all."

"Thanks, J. Thanks for looking out for him."

The door opened, and Tony flew through, searching the apartment until he got to the bedroom and found Steve on the floor with his back braced against the bed, arms around his knees, breathing hyper-carefully. Tony crumpled to the floor in front of him and dropped a hand to each of his knees. "Steve? What's wrong? What happened?"

"Tony?" Steve started shaking, teeth chattering. "I think I'm dropping."

"Ahh, sweetheart." Tony petted his hair back away from his face. His forehead had broken out in a cold sweat. "You've already dropped. Come here." Tony opened his arms and Steve collapsed into them, letting Tony curl around him and take his place with his back against the bed. His old bones would start to protest soon, but for now his only concern was helping Steve.

"I feel like I really screwed up," Steve whimpered into Tony's chest. "I think I'm really bad."

"You're not bad. You didn't screw up. You're so good. Such a good boy. I left too early. You weren't up enough. It's my fault."

Steve whimpered. "I think it's my fault. I feel like it's my fault. Oh god. I made such a huge mistake."

"What was your mistake?" Tony started stroking his fingers up and down Steve's spine.

"I - I don't know," Steve admitted. He was shaking harder now. Tony reached behind him and tugged until the blanket crumpled off the bed on top of them. He wrapped it around Steve's shoulders.

"Well, I don't know either. And I'd know if you had made a mistake. I'd have told you, right? We would have talked about punishment. But you didn't make a mistake and you don't need to be punished."

Steve was silent for a moment. "I feel like I did. I really feel like I did."

"I know. It's just the drop, sweet thing. It makes you feel like that, but it's not real. You trust me right?"

"Mhm." Steve burrowed further into Tony's hold, hands gripping his shirt hard, face pressed to his chest.

"I'd tell you if you'd screwed up, Steve. I wouldn't leave you to figure it out. You didn't screw up. It's not your fault. This feeling isn't real. I left you alone while you were still down and that's really scary for you, but I didn't mean to. It wasn't a punishment. It was _my_ mistake, not yours. You're going to be okay, I'm here for you now, okay?"

"Okay…" Steve tried, hesitantly.

Tony bundled him tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You're okay," he repeated.

"Okay." He sounded a bit more confident. "I'm so sorry about your meeting, Tony. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It doesn't matter. You're much more important." In all honesty, it probably didn't matter. The merger was doomed anyway. They'd all be mad at Tony for bailing, maybe even catch him out on his lie since the Avengers wouldn't be in the news, Iron Man wouldn't be seen flying out past the meeting room window, but it didn't matter in the slightest. Steve needed him. That was all that mattered.

Tony was in love with him. There was no way he could deny that now, with Steve shaking and sighing in his arms, with Tony's chest welling him with a hundred feelings that could all be boiled down to _mine._ He needed to take care of him, needed to make him safe again. "Can we get up in the bed, Steve? I think you need some skin contact. You're a good boy. It's okay if you can't stand yet."

"No - no I can stand." Steve pushed away from him shakily and Tony helped draw him up to his feet, hiding his wince when his back creaked and groaned. He helped Steve take his shirt off then hurriedly stripped out of his own suit and got them both into bed, under the covers.

"J, bring it up a few degrees and play something soft." The heater clicked to live and gentle strains of acoustic jazz filtered in on low volume. "Are you okay, sweetheart? Feeling any better?"

Steve let out a soft sigh against Tony's shoulder. "Yeah… yeah a little."

"Okay. Well, don't worry. I'm going to stay here until you're a hundred percent. I don't care how long it takes. I'm not going to leave you alone."

"Thank you."

They were both quiet for a long time, Steve's trembling finally fading away, his breathing slowing to something less panic-inducing.

"I'm really embarrassed," Steve finally muttered into Tony's bicep, turning his face and hiding in against Tony's arm.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," Tony assured him, squeezing him closer. "Nothing."

It took almost an hour before Steve slipped off to sleep, but Tony stayed awake. He had to be more careful. Steve would be fine when he woke, but Tony _had_ to be more careful in the future. What if he'd left for a business trip? He could have been halfway around the world instead of thirty stories down. Drop could put a normal sub in the hospital; there was no way of knowing what it might do to a supersoldier sub. And without a contract, Tony had no excuse for running off to take care of him.

It'd been too risky to bring Steve so far down this morning - after a Rebirth nightmare, no less, Tony had almost forgotten - and he shouldn't have trusted that he was properly up without checking his eyes. Steve didn't want him to be late. His desire to please had overriden his need to tell the truth, and it was Tony's responsibility as his - as _the_ Dom, to make sure that didn't put him in danger.

Tony pulled Steve's sleeping form tighter against his chest. He had to be more careful.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve charged at Tony, full speed, and Tony tried to twist and dodge, but he started the movement too late, the extra half-second it took him to process which side Steve was aiming for, a half-second too long. Steve caught him around the arm, pulled him off-balance then spun around, slamming them both to the floor, Tony pinned under Steve.

"Fuck," Tony groaned, panting through the shock. When he could breathe again, Steve eased back and stood, holding out a hand to help Tony back to his feet.

"You're still telegraphing on your left side," Steve said, hands on hips. 

Tony grabbed his water bottle and chugged a few mouthfuls. "Yeah. It's my bad side." He gestured towards his chest. "The arc reactor pulls there. I guess I hesitate."

Steve frowned thoughtfully at him. "The next time you're going to go left, feint right first."

"What's that going to do?"

Steve shrugged. "Rewire things? You've been hesitating on your left for so long it's become muscle memory. Does it really hurt? Or do you just expect it to?"

Tony stopped to think, his fingers coming up to rub in a slow circle around the casing of the arc reactor. "Huh. Maybe you're right. It doesn't hurt as often as I expect it to."

Steve held up his hands and Tony braced his feet, settling into his stance. Steve dropped his hands and they were off, circling each other and looking for an opening. Tony took too long trying to process the new instruction, trying to decide which way to move while feinting at the same time, and he ended up colliding with Steve, all limbs and confusion, tumbling them both to the floor laughing. 

Steve helped him up again. "Let's go. Come on, Tony. You're going to let yourself be beaten by a sub?" Steve's eyes twinkled with cheeky challenge.

Tony snorted. "A sub who could stop a bus with his bare hands." Tony settled back into his stance. "I can still take you, though. Bring it on."

Steve grinned and dropped his arms again. This time, Tony feinted right then bounced left again, and even though Steve was prepared for it, he stuttered and Tony took his chance. He slid under Steve's arm, grabbed him around the waist and twisted him to the floor, slamming his shoulder onto the mats and forcing a grunt out of him.

Tony landed on top of Steve this time, arm across his chest, and he saw the flash of submission that buzzed through Steve at the shock of pain. Tony had always assumed pain would be a no-go for Steve after Rebirth, but the way his breath caught, the brief dip into the edges of subspace… it was gone as quickly as it came, and Steve didn't even seemed to notice himself, but Tony noticed. And it gave him ideas.

"You're still telegraphing on your left side," a new voice called out. Tony rolled off Steve to find Natasha leaning against the far wall, arms crossed.

"So I'm told," Tony drawled. 

"Steve, Secretary Pierce wants to see us for a meeting in D.C  tomorrow," Natasha said, brow pinching.

Steve clearly caught the concern in her expression too. "Pierce? What does he want?"

"I'm not sure."

"What does Fury think?"

Natasha hesitated. "He's not replying to my calls and I'm getting out of office on his emails."

"Hmm."

Tony grabbed his towel and wiped his brow, slinging it over his shoulder. "Sounds like you have more than one reason to go to D.C."

Steve and Natasha shot him shared looks of concern.

Steve picked up his water bottle. "Sounds like…"

**

"Do you like pain?" Tony asked, as they lounged lazily in the penthouse that afternoon. Steve was lying on the floor, both of Tony's feet on his chest. He held one in each hand, rubbing his thumbs idly over Tony's ankle bones, eyes closed. But at Tony's question, they snapped open.

"Do I like pain?" he echoed. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Because we've done a lot of things together, but pain hasn't been one of them. Most subs I've been with have liked at least a little bit of it. But after Rebirth, I always assumed you wouldn't. I don't want to deny you, though, if it's something you like. We could play with it."

Steve opened his mouth then seemed to consider and closed it again. He thought for a moment. "I don't know."

"We don't have to."

Steve sat up and Tony moved his feet to the floor, letting Steve kneel, leaned against his calves. "I don't hate the idea…" His cheeks pinked. "It's a bit scary, though. Like, what if I go down too far again? But then, now I know you can bring me up, so, not that scary, I guess. And I hate the thought that Rebirth could ruin something like that for me. Something I didn't even really get a chance to figure out if I liked. Do most subs like it?"

Steve must have an idea of how many subs Tony had been with. The math wasn't too hard to work out, and he'd been the first one to admit that he'd never been contracted, rarely been with the same sub twice. Still, there was something mildly uncomfortable about discussing his history. Maybe because they had almost all been sexual, and this was something else. "Yes. Most of them do. But that doesn't mean you have to. I like making you feel good, however that happens. It doesn't have to be pain. If you'd like to try it, though, I have some ideas."

Steve's blush deepened. "Yes… I'd like to try, at least."

"Now?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay." Tony considered him for a moment, mapping out a plan in his head. There was a thrill to trying something new, something that might push things too far and hit a boundary. "I'll be right back." Tony left Steve on his knees in the living room and went to the closet off his bedroom. He opened a cupboard that stored most of his toys and dug through a box until he found what he was looking for. It was a small hand-held shocker, gentle and light with a lot of control of the voltage. Even at its max, it would barely bite. It was a good place to start.

Tony went back to the living room and sat in front of Steve again. He dialled the shocker to low and pressed it against his own arm first to make sure it wasn't too strong. It snapped against his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but the pain was soft and short-lived. He held out his hand. "Give me your hand."

Steve obeyed immediately, even though Tony could see the apprehension in his eyes. Tony tapped a finger on the fleshy part of Steve's forearm. "I'm going to press it right here, okay? If you don't like it, you don't have to do it again, but I want you to try it once."

"Okay…"

Tony tapped again, making sure Steve knew what to expect. He pressed the end of the shocker to Steve's skin and pushed the button. Steve flinched in his hold but didn't move away. His pupils blew wide, eyes glued to his own arm. His breathing hitched heavily and his lips parted to suck in a gasp. 

"You okay?" Tony asked softly.

"Um. Yes. Wow."

"Did you like it?"

"Yes… It wasn't what I expected. It feels good, though. Thank you."

"Do you want more?"

"Yes, please." Steve's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Give me your other hand." 

Steve rested his other hand on Tony's knee, and Tony tapped that forearm before following it with a jolt from the shocker. Tony watched a shiver wriggle down Steve's spine. He was sinking down already, muscles relaxing, jaw going slack, eyes hazing over. 

"Do you want to keep doing this? Or we could do something else to get you down the rest of the way."

Steve eyes fluttered up from where they'd been fixed on his own arm to find Tony's. "This. Please. More of this…"

"Alright. If it gets to be too much, you just ask me to stop and I'll stop." Tony waited until Steve nodded. "Okay, take off your shirt and pants, shoes and socks, and lie on your stomach, here." He tapped the couch then stood, leaving it clear for Steve.

Steve stripped down with military efficiency then spread out on the couch, chin resting on the throw pillow at the end, arms folded under it. 

"Turn your cheek this way -" Tony guided his face to the side "- so I can see you. Good?"

"So good," Steve said eagerly, tensing again with anticipation. 

"Okay, good boy. Here we go." Tony tapped the centre of Steve's lower back then shocked him in the same spot. He jerked under Tony's hands and a small gasp leaked out. Tony tapped again, shocked again. He worked his way up Steve's spine, stopping to press several times between his shoulder blades. Steve was putty in his hands, limp and panting, tiny moans slipping free with each shock. Tony tried not to let those moans settle low in his core, but they were hard to ignore and his body responded. He adjusted his pants as subtly as he could then went back to his ministrations.

"I'm going to stop warning you, is that okay?"

Steve nodded and made a muffled sound that was as close to a, "yes," as he seemed able to make.

Tony grinned to himself, swelling with satisfaction that he'd rendered Steve so useless, so easily. And to think, he'd been hesitant about suggesting pain, not wanting to bring up Steve's bad memories. But maybe they could write over some of them, together. He started to draw random loops and spirals up Steve's back with the electric dots from the shocker. Steve's skin welled up pink after each one, then faded immediately back to its perfectly healthy glow. 

God, but he was gorgeous. If asked, before Steve, Tony would have said that unmarkable skin would be a downside in a sub, but there was something comforting about it. Tony knew, without a doubt, that while he was hurting Steve, he wasn't damaging him, and that calmed the constant torrent of anxiety that wrapped around every scene he ran.

"How do you feel?" Tony asked.

_ "Nuh -"  _ Steve smacked a heavy tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Yes.  _ Tony." _

"You look so beautiful like this. I want to keep you here all day."

"Please…"

Tony continued to travel across Steve's back, dipping down onto his biceps a few times then working his way back across his shoulders. He sunk into the pleasure of easing Steve down, of having his sub soft and giving and happy under his hands.  _ His sub.  _ Tony didn't shy away from the thought this time, too dialled into Steve's pleasure to let worry about the future creep in. "So good," he murmured, with every shock that Steve took. 

It took him halfway through the 'S' for him to realize he was tracing his initials across Steve's back, and he hastily danced away to another patch of perfect skin before Steve noticed. Though, really, he was too far gone to notice anything.

Steve was drooling onto the throw pillow.

"Okay, sweetheart, roll over."

It took a moment for the Command to filter through Steve's haze, but then he pushed himself up and flopped over onto his back.

Steve was rock hard, tenting his boxers obscenely, and Tony swallowed heavily, forcing his eyes back up Steve's chest. Steve seemed blissfully unaware, floating serenely in a deep subspace. Tony gave him a moment, rubbing idly circles on his stomach with one hand, watching his face and judging how deep down his was. "You okay?" he asked softly, after a while.

"So good," Steve slurred, one hand waving haphazardly until it found Tony's shoulder. It stayed there. "Thank you. Am I - am I being good for you?"

"You're being perfect," Tony assured him. "Exactly what I want."

"Oh, good," Steve breathed.

"Just a little more and then I'll let you float for a while before you come up, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

Tony realized that he was even more reluctant to stop than Steve was. He was so far down that he'd do almost anything Tony said, at this point. But this felt too good, too satisfying. Everything else had fallen away - his worries, his stress, his past. Everything was just Steve now. Making Steve happy. Tony blinked stupidly at Steve's dopey smile. God, he was so perfect. He was everything Tony wanted.

Tony pressed the shocker to Steve's ribs and activated it, watching Steve's lips part and a gasp slip free. "So good," Tony murmured, as he shocked him again. Steve's hips jerked up and Tony forced himself not to stare. His cock throbbed in his own pants, half-hard, but he bit down on his lip and focused on drawing a path across Steve's chest with the shocker.

He finished by leaving spots of pain down each of Steve's arms, leaving off with one last shock to the same place he'd started, on Steve's forearm. 

While Steve lay in a puddle on the couch, grinning and floating, Tony turned the TV on and leaned back against the couch, one arm stretched out alongside Steve's leg, the other covering over his bare chest possessively. 

They lay like that as long as Tony could justify it, and then he started to bring Steve up. It took a long time, and he was slow and careful, and even after that, Tony kept Steve in his apartment until he was completely clear and lucid, making sure he checked his eyes multiple times before he left. Steve indulged Tony's extra care, flushing slightly when Tony asked one last time to see his eyes. They hadn't talked about Steve's drop. It was an easy enough thing to prevent - Tony just had to make sure Steve was properly up before leaving him - and every time they skirted the topic, Steve's cheeks inflamed and he hastily redirected.

But when Tony finally let Steve go, he couldn't help but remember his panicked texting the last time they'd been together, and his heart gave a jump-start of adrenaline. "J? If Steve shows any signs of dropping, any at all, let me know."

"Of course, sir."

"Thank you."

Tony hovered nervously by the door for a moment longer then turned and went to the shower. With the hot water cascading down his back, his mind returned to the sight of Steve laid out on the couch, hard cock tenting his thin boxers, writhing and moaning under Tony's hand. His far too eager imagination layered in some truly pornographic noises, and Tony couldn't help himself. He wrapped a hand around his length, bracing the other against the wall, and let himself fantasize. What if? What if Steve was really his, all the way his, and he could take care of him in every way he wanted to?

**

Tony fretted the entire time Steve was in D.C. with Natasha. It wasn't that he was worried about Steve - he hadn't been down since their last scene so there was no risk of him dropping, and there was little else one had to worry about with Steve - but Secretary Pierce wanting to meeting with Steve and Natasha specifically was somewhat nerve wracking. And it didn't help that Tony didn't like being apart from Steve for any longer than was absolutely necessary. 

JARVIS let Tony know when their quinjet was in the air, on the way back from D.C. that evening, but when there was a knock on the workshop door, and Tony called out "Come in," expecting Steve, it was Natasha who appeared at his elbow.

She reached out and dropped two things on the desk next to Tony: the contract Tony had offered her with SI and a USB key.

"What -?" Tony started. He peeled up the stack of papers and found her signature on the bottom sheet. "What happened in D.C.?"

"Fury's missing." She sat down hard in the chair next to his and steepled her fingers in front of her, using her feet to gently spin herself back and forth a few inches. "I don't like this."

"Fury's  _ missing?"  _

She nodded slowly. "Secretary Pierce sat us down and told us that it broke his heart to have to tell us this, because Fury was one of his best friends, but he was responsible for Batroc's attack on the Lemurian Star. Pierce said he'd used me - us - to steal classified documents from the ship's hard drive."

"Did he?"

"I… don't know." Natasha's lips twitched unhappily, like she wasn't comfortable with not knowing something like that. "I can believe he hired Batroc. Fury is confident that the ends justify the means. He wouldn't have batted an eye at putting the Avengers, and the hostages, at risk if he thought it was vital to national security to get the data off that ship. But treason? I find that harder."

They sat in ponderous silence for a moment. Then Tony tapped the USB key. "So what's this?"

"That's the data from the Lemurian Star."

Tony quirked an eyebrow at her. "I thought you gave that to Fury."

"Of course I did. I also made a copy for myself."

Tony stilled, blinking at her. "Really?"

She leaned forward with a soft smile. "If that shocks you, Iron Man, there's a chance you're in the wrong business."

"I just - huh. I thought you trusted Fury."

"I did. I do - I don't know. He told me to keep my eyes open."

Tony frowned down at the USB key. "He told me the same thing. I didn't take it seriously."

"I always take it seriously."

"You think Pierce is lying? Or misinformed?"

"I'm not sure what to think." Natasha leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "I don't know."

"But you signed this contract. You're getting out."

"I did. I can't be looking at SHIELD from the inside out, right now. And thankfully your contracts have a very open release clause." She smiled at him, and it felt genuine this time. "Something's not right and I need freedom to chase down what it is." Her mouth twisted again. "When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight. I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but...I guess I can't tell the difference anymore."

Tony bumped her knee with his. "There's a chance you might be in the wrong business."

She barked out a laugh and they both startled around at the sound of the door opening. Steve was there, looking damp and pink and freshly clean. Tony forced his eyes not to trace every curve, every crease of his t-shirt. "You okay?" he asked Steve, softly.

Steve nodded, matching Tony's gaze for a moment before cutting his eyes over to Natasha. "You told him?" She nodded, and Steve dropped into the other chair, on Tony's other side. "We don't know what's on that USB. It could be anything."

"It could be," Natasha continued. "It could be something we can't unsee."

Tony picked it up and rolled it around between his fingers. He turned to Steve. "You think something fishy is going on, too?"

Steve nodded. "I do. Pierce was acting odd. Fury stealing data and running off makes no sense. All of this seems so convoluted. Hill is missing too." He rapped his fingers on the desktop. "The weirdest part was why we were there. He played it like he was trying to find information on Fury but what he really wanted was that." Steve pointed towards the flash drive Tony was still fiddling with. "He kept asking if any of us had seen Fury, heard from him, if he'd sent us anything. And when we were leaving, the entire STRIKE team was gathered in the lobby. They were acting like they all had reasons for being there, but it was… tense."

"Well then," Tony said, popping the cap off the USB key, "guess we find out what's on this bad boy." He plugged it in.


	11. Chapter 11

"Any luck, JARVIS?" Tony muttered, stirring a spoon idly in his long cold cup of coffee.

"Nothing yet, sir. I'm sure I can gain access to these files, but every time I get close, the encryption rewrites itself."

Tony sighed, tapping his fingers on the desktop. He knew he should sleep, JARVIS could put infinite attention towards cracking the USB key, and he'd wake Tony if he made it through, but anxious energy kept Tony awake. 

Normally, when he was feeling unsettled like this, Tony would call Steve. Even the thought of Steve at his feet was calming, but only for a moment, and then stress poured back in with reality. It was as if every time Tony took Steve down, it filled some meter for him, but he needed more sooner and sooner each time he did it; it felt good, but what if it overflowed? It was creeping up higher every time, and his feelings were getting harder to hide. Something had to give; either Tony had to end this before his heart was broken beyond repair, or he needed to know that Steve was okay with continuing this without a contract, long-term. But that meant talking about it, and that was a conversation Tony couldn't take back if it went wrong. And as much as he was gone for Steve, there were some things he wasn't sure he'd ever be strong enough to tell him.

A soft knock on the door broke Tony out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked up to see Bruce slipping in, wrapped in a warm sweater, a steaming mug in his hands. His curly hair was in a wild halo around his head and there were dark bruises under his eyes.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tony asked.

Bruce shook his head. "You?"

"Yeah. JARVIS is still working on the USB from Natasha and it's got me all jittery."

"A watched pot never boils."

Tony chuckled. "I know, I know. You got an interesting project going on?"

Bruce shrugged. "Not really. I - I've been trying, thinking of a few things, but it's a bit -" He sighed. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"You know -" He shrugged again. "Not earning my keep?"

"Your keep?" Tony peered at him, shaking off the late night brain fog. "Why -? You don't have to earn anything, Bruce. This is your home, no strings attached. Why would you think you had to, I don't know, force some brilliant discovery or something?"

Bruce opened and close his mouth a few times like a surprised goldfish. "Why else… would you -? I mean, I shouldn't be on the team at all, but if I am, I should at least make myself useful."

"Hey, come on. I know better than anyone that you can't force creative genius. You're not on the team because we expect you to be Q, or something. You and I are R&D together, sure, but this isn't a job, Bruce. There aren't quotas or deadlines. We're all just fucking about trying to save some lives. Look at me, I've been sitting here for three hours watching JARVIS fail to crack that USB key, and I'm still on the team. Don't worry about that, okay? Avenger for life. You wanna retire tomorrow? You still have a place in the tower, okay?"

Bruce nodded slowly. "Okay… thank you."

"You're welcome. You need anything else? It's becoming apparent that the one thing we all have in common is that we're absolute trash at taking care of ourselves. Except maybe Natasha and Clint. They've got something good going on, I guess. You need a Subscene account or anything? I've never seen you with a Dom."

Bruce curled in on himself a little. "The - uh - the other guy. He's a Dom. He's… my Dom. I can't kneel for anyone or he comes out, but he keeps me from getting subsick. It's complicated… I guess."

Tony bit his lip against his urge to say  _ it sounds convenient.  _ Being able to satisfy his own urges, not needing anyone else, it sounded nice. "Ah. Okay," he said, instead.

"Pardon me, sir," JARVIS cut in, "but I've managed to break into one partition of the flash drive. I've uploaded the files in question to your Avengers server. The folder is labelled 'Insight.' The other section of the drive is proving more difficult, however. I may not be able to break through."

"Good man, J." Tony pulled his chair back up to the desk and started navigating to the files. "If you can't crack the rest, can you at least trace its origin? Something? Anything?"

"Yes, that I can do."

"Thanks. Oh, and call the others down. I think they'll want to be woken up for this."

Bruce leaned forward in his chair as the files opened across Tony's screen. Blueprints… plans… dossiers… "What is it?" he asked.

Tony's eyes flickered across design documents for three massive helicarriers. "I don't know…"

**

Steve pushed to his feet and stalked out of the workshop. Tony jumped up, shooting a significant look to Natasha, and powered after him. He caught Steve halfway down the hall, closed his hand around his wrist and spun him around to pin him against the wall. Tony shifted them down until they were out of view of the workshop then pressed his body to Steve's, creating as much contact as he could. He brought his lips close to Steve's ear and squeezed his wrist where it was trapped against the wall. 

Steve let out a heavy breath, melting into Tony's hold. 

"Calm down," Tony Commanded. "I've got you."

Steve dropped his forehead to Tony's shoulder. "I don't understand," he muttered, hot breath sinking through Tony's shirt. "SHIELD is planning to kill people  _ before  _ they've even committed a crime. I don't get it. All those names, all those people. You were on that list, I -" He choked himself off, and Tony pressed more firmly against him.

"I know. I don't get it either. Something is going on here. Something dangerous and horrible. But we're going to figure it out, and we're going to stop it, right?"

"God, I hope so."

Tony found Steve's other wrist and pinned it to the wall as well. Steve softened even more, giving in to his hold. "Do you think Fury's dead?" Steve whispered.

"I don't know. But it seems pretty clear that he figured this out. Either he's hiding, or Pierce - or whoever is responsible for this - had him killed, but SHIELD isn't SHIELD anymore. They can't be trusted, if they ever could be. We have to trace the other files to New Jersey and get as much information as we can."

"I trusted them."

"I know."

Steve's arms wrapped around Tony's waist and drew him closer. "Thank you for getting me out. I - I'm pretty sure you saved my life a second time by taking my contract from SHIELD."

Tony leaned back a little, finding Steve's eyes. They were bright and full of something hot and intense.

"I wish - I just -"

Tony tensed. He knew that look. "Don't ask me again," he murmured, so low he wasn't sure if Steve would catch the words, but Steve stilled and fell silent. 

"We should go back in. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left. I just -"

"It's alright." Tony stepped back, giving Steve room to breathe again. "We're all angry. They'll understand. You safe?"

Steve nodded. "Yes." He met Tony's gaze for a moment, and his eyes were clear, hints of subspace creeping in at the edges, but just enough to calm him down, not enough to drop him.

"Okay. Let's go make a plan."

The plan, in the end, was fairly simple. Steve, Clint, and Bruce would stay behind at the tower, and Tony and Natasha would take a quinjet to Wheaton, New Jersey and follow the trail of the mystery code.

"I don't like it," Steve said to Natasha, while she was prepping her go-bag. Tony started the pre-flight check sequence on the armour, unable to help overhearing. "Tony was on that list, and that version was made before you left SHIELD. I wouldn't be surprised if you were on it now, too. It feels like a trap."

"A trap for us, or a trap for someone else?" Natasha offered.

"You think Fury and Hill went there?"

"I don't know. But if there's a chance?"

Steve fiddled with something in his pocket, and Tony watched the shape roll around and around, trying to figure out what it was. "But maybe we should all go."

"We need to look like operation as usual, Steve. They don't know we have this data. There's a chance we can get what we need without being detected. You guys have to make it look like the Avengers are still hanging around the tower, training. There's a lot of eyes on us right now."

"I know…" Steve's eyes cut over Natasha's shoulder and found Tony's. Their gazes held for a moment, and out of his periphery, Tony saw Steve's fist clench in his pocket and he knew now, exactly what he had in there: Tony's token.

"We'll be alright," Tony said. "Natasha won't let me get kidnapped."

Steve snorted. "She'd better not."

Tony ran his fingertips up the inside of Steve's arm as he walked by. "You're okay, right? You're safe?"

Steve nodded. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about."

"Don't. We got this." Tony squeezed Steve's wrist and made to move away, but Steve caught him and pulled him into a quick hug.

"Be careful."

"Take care of DUM-E." Tony grabbed his go-bag and followed Natasha onto the quinjet. 

She dropped it into stealth mode - an addition Tony had made as soon as they'd ended up with one that was all their own - before they took off, bringing the jet up above the cloud line as quickly as possible. 

"So," Natasha said, spinning around in the pilot chair to face Tony. "You flinched when we got the results that it was Camp Lehigh. Why do you know that name?"

"Perceptive…" Tony muttered. "My dad worked there. A long time ago. I found some of his things after he died with that name on them. Everything about my dad makes me flinch. You should know that by now, superspy." He rolled his eyes up from the floor to meet Natasha's, and she held his gaze then nodded. 

"What are we going to find there?"

"I don't know. I've never been. I just know the name."

"Hmm." Nat adjusted their course a little. "Do you think it has anything to do with Rebirth?"

Tony studied the back of her head. "Maybe."

"Is that why you suggested I go with you instead of Steve?"

Tony was quiet for a long time. "Maybe…"

"None of us cares that you two are sleeping together, you know. You don't have to pretend you're not."

Tony spluttered. "What? We're not sleeping together."

That got a look from Natasha. "Really?"

"Really. We - uh - we scene sometimes, that's all. It's just casual."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"That's not what it sounds like coming from Steve."

Tony shrugged, hiding the painful twist of his gut. "Well, you know him. He's a romantic at heart. He makes everything sound more interesting than it is."

"Sure." Natasha turned back to the console. 

They passed the rest of the flight in silence. They touched down in the back field of Camp Lehigh, settling the jet, still in stealth mode, in an empty field. The camp was long abandoned, buildings gone to ruin, but if the USB was anything to go on, someone was still here. Tony warmed up the repulsors and followed Natasha on high alert. She frowned at her scanner.

"This is a dead end. Zero heat signature, zero waves, not even radio. Whoever wrote the file must have used a router to throw people off." Her gaze cut over to where Tony had stopped, staring. "What is it?"

Tony looked at the readouts on his HUD. "There's electricity going into this building. Everything else is dead - this one is live."

They exchanged a look then Tony took the lock in hand and twisted until it snapped. They stepped inside and looked around. 

"This is SHIELD." Natasha breathed, picking up a folder with a logo on it then tossing it back down. 

Tony gestured towards two portraits on the wall. "I knew my dear old man was involved, but I didn't know that's what they were doing here." Howard frowned down disapprovingly at Tony from the ornate frame. "Good to see you too, pops," he muttered.

"Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah."

"If you're already working in a secret office…" Natasha shoved her shoulder against the edge of a bookshelf and it slid open to reveal the smooth metal doors of an elevator behind it. "Why do you need to hide the elevator?"

"Grow-op?" Tony suggested, and Natasha shook her head with a smile. Natasha scanned the keypad and typed in the code it deciphered from the old fingerprints. They stepped inside and the elevator rumbled to life, sliding down several floors into the basement. They opened into a huge data centre, bank lining the walls, a main console with a keyboard and several dusty screens was the only other thing the room contained. 

"This can't be the data-point," Natasha said. "This technology is ancient."

"Hey," Tony said. "Be careful who you're calling ancient. I grew up with this stuff." Tony ran his fingers along the dust-covered desk then stopped when he reached a clear patch, the swoop of a wiping hand marring the perfect grey coverage. "Someone's been here since it was closed up."

Natasha started digging around through the computer periphery and came up with a flash drive extension. "That's anachronistic."

Tony opened a port in the suit and pulled out the Lemurian Star flash drive. He handed it to her and she plugged it in. 

_ Initiate system? _ the screen flashed. 

They shared a glance then Natasha leaned forward and typed  _ y-e-s  _ on the central keyboard.

The computer rumbled and whined, humming to live. Natasha shot Tony a smile.  "Shall we play a game?"

Tony snorted. "Don't curse us with that shit, Romanoff. I'm too old for World War three."

A German-accented voice suddenly cut through the room, startling them both. "Stark, Anthony Edwards. Born, 1970. Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna. Born, 1984."

Natasha peered up at a camera near the ceiling. "It's some kind of a recording."

"I am not a recording, Fräulein. I may not be the man I was when I was taken prisoner in 1945, but I am -" A photograph appeared on the screen with a name underneath it: Arnim Zola.

"That name's familiar… I think he was a German scientist." Natasha mused. "But he must have died years ago."

Tony shrugged. "I don't know. My dad didn't talk much about what he was doing here. At least not to me."

"First correction," the computer said, "I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972 I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body, my mind, however, that was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain."

It was a thought Tony'd had more than once, he had to admit. To store his core inside an AI like JARVIS. It was more than immortality. It was about reaching his maximum potential. Not having the barrier of time that had stopped his father before he finished so many of his inventions. "How did you get here?" Tony asked.

"Invited."

Natasha nodded. "Operation Paperclip. After World War II, SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic value. I thought I'd seen the name on a list, but he was listed as deceased."

"They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own."

"And what's that?" Tony asked.

"Hail HYDRA," the computer hissed. 

"HYDRA?" Natasha reeled back. "HYDRA died in World War two. Peggy Carter sacrificed herself to kill Johann Schmidt and ended HYDRA seventy years ago. It was part of what SHIELD was founded on."

The face on the screen flickered to a tentacled skull. "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.

"Prove it," Natasha demanded, Command leaking into her voice.

"Accessing archive." The computer hummed and then the other screens flickered to life, old footage, newspaper clippings, the last seventy years of war history skated across the bank of screens. "HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed."

A new image flashed - the Avengers standing together after the Battle for New York. "The wonderful thing about an infection is that it spreads," Zola went on. "No one is safe, there is no inoculation. You're all infected now. HYDRA is everywhere."

"That's impossible," Natasha ground out. "SHIELD would have stopped you."

"Accidents will happen," Zola drawled. The screen flashed a new image, a newspaper clipping.  _ Howard and Maria Stark Die in Car Accident,  _ the headline read. Tony's blood froze, his heart cramping with pain as it tried to pump ice through his body. Zola was still talking, but it was just background noise. The image changed - Fury's face - but Tony could still see the face of his father staring back at him. _ Accidents… _ Tony stumbled backwards, squeezing his eyes shut against the rising nausea. 

"-ony. Tony!" Natasha was yelling. Tony shook himself free and stared at her. She had her phone out. "We've got a bogey. Short-range ballistic. 30 seconds tops. SHIELD knows we're here."

"HYDRA," Tony corrected with a growl.

"I am afraid I have been stalling, Avengers. Admit it, it's better this way."

"Tony!" 

Tony snapped into action. He grabbed Natasha around the waist and held her to him. He fired the repulsors and shot up, aiming for the elevator shaft. Concrete exploded around him as he charged through the wall, and he tucked Natasha's face in against his chest, trying to cover her with as much of the armour as was possible. Back on the main floor, he pointed towards the window, shooting through it in a shower of broken glass as the missile collided with the bunker, blowing it apart. The shockwave sent Tony tumbling through the air and he wrapped himself around Natasha, his only goals to not drop her and to not crush her with the power of the suit.

They tumbled to the ground, rolling a little in the damp grass, before they came to a halt and Tony let her go carefully. Natasha rolled to her hands and knees and breathed heavily for a moment. Tony wanted to make a crack about seasickness or roller coasters, or really say anything at all, but he couldn't find any words around the huge lump in his throat. HYDRA had killed his parents. HYDRA had killed his father before Tony was of age to sign his own contract. HYDRA had ripped away his only escape clause and left him in the crushing hands of Obie.

HYDRA had killed his mother.

Suddenly, Natasha wasn't the one Tony was worried about throwing up. He flipped up the faceplate and sucked in cool air.

Neither spoke, and after a few moments, they both realized they needed to leave. SHIELD had likely sent someone after them and neither of them was in any shape to be fighting off a whole STRIKE team on their own. They hustled back to the quinjet. 

The flight back was painfully quiet.  Tony resisted for as long as he could, but after only ten minutes, he couldn't stand it anymore. "Play it back, J," he said quietly, faceplate back down. 

JARVIS started playing the recording of what they'd just seen. Tony clenched his teeth tightly until the image appeared again: his dead father, his mother's name. There was no question what Zola meant by it. HYDRA'd had his parents killed. It hadn't been an accident at all.

"Tony?" Natasha tried quietly.

Tony flipped the faceplate up again and rubbed his hands over his face. "I always blamed him. I always thought he must have been drinking or driving too fast, or something. I always blamed him for killing my mom."

"I'm sorry."

Tony took a sharp breath in and held himself together with pure force of will. "J, send the footage back to the team."

Natasha let him sit in blank, static silence for the rest of the trip. His mind felt buzzy, no actual thoughts able to sneak through, and Tony fell gratefully into the deadness of nothing, letting it wash over him. 

When they landed, Tony went straight to the penthouse, changed out of the undersuit, wrapped a blanket around himself and sat heavily on the couch, staring at the wall opposite. 

He didn't know how long it had been when there was a soft knock on his door. Steve's face appeared. "Tony? Are you okay?"

Tony shifted the blanket down from around his shoulders.  "I'm okay," he said, hearing the deep lack of okay in his voice. 

Steve closed the door behind him and hovered awkwardly by the edge of the couch. "Can I kneel for you?"

"I -" Tony cleared his throat. "Sorry. I don't think I can. I can't catch you right now." Tony ran his hands over his face, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I'm sorry." 

Steve's weight dipped the couch cushion next to him, but Tony didn't look up. Steve's hand ran up his spine. "I can take care of you without going down, Tony. That's not all this is about."

Tension rippled down Tony's spine and settled as hot anxiety in his stomach. That  _ was _ all this was about. It was all he had to offer. He shook his head, not knowing what he meant by the movement. He was so tied up in knots about Steve, but the last thing he wanted right now was for him to leave. 

Steve's other hand joined his first and he started rubbing soft circles down Tony's back, easing the tightness out of his muscles. He shifted closer and Tony could feel the heat radiating off him and it took everything he had not to sink back into it. 

"Do you believe him?" Tony asked softly.

"Which part?"

Tony chewed his bottom lip, letting his eyes fall closed. Steve's hands continued to dig into his sore muscles, bringing his shoulders down from around his ears, making the pain and confusion and fear drift just a little farther away. "About a mole in the Avengers."

Steve's hands stilled for a moment then continued their path. His voice was tight when he said, "I don't know."

"You trust Natasha and Clint." Tony offered.

"I do."

"I trust Bruce."

Steve sighed. "I think he was just trying to sow discontentment, get us fighting amongst ourselves. It doesn't mean anything. If he had anything concrete, he would have said so."

"We trusted SHIELD, though. We made this team barely knowing each other. We still barely know each other."

Steve was quiet for a long time. "I know you. If nothing else, I know you."

_ You really don't,  _ Tony wanted to say, but he knew Steve would take that as a failing on his part, instead of a failing on Tony's part. Which it definitely was.  _ You really don't know me at all. _


	12. Chapter 12

Tony leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "It's easy enough to program replacement chips for the helicarriers, something that will make them turn on each other, or plow into the Potomac or something. We've got the full design documents, so as long as things haven't changed significantly since then… and even if they have, J and I can probably figure out how to upload the new programs. The problem is that I have to physically be there to do it. SHIELD security is too good to do it from here, even given all the time in the world, which we don't have."

"So we need to break into SHIELD," Clint mused.

"Does it count as breaking in?" Steve asked. "Usually, we just walk in."

"We have to assume they know it was us at Camp Lehigh," Natasha said. "I have a feeling our visitors passes are revoked."

Steve was sitting close enough to Tony that he could feel his heat against his shoulder and it helped keep the scream that threatened to rattle up his throat down in his gut where it belonged. HYDRA had killed his parents, killed his childhood, and was going to kill his relationship with Steve, knock-on consequences that no one but him could understand. He wanted to dig his claws in and rip them apart, shred them into nothing, feel their blood drench his hands. 

But he hung onto Steve's presence beside him and bit down his rage. They had to do this smart. And yet, when Tony let his mind click back in, it whispered to him Zola's words about an infection in the Avengers, the same one that had poisoned SHIELD. What if one of the people at the table was secretly HYDRA? Tony was sure he trusted the whole team, but was he sure enough that he'd risk his life on it? His eyes flicked over to Steve, his stomach twisting that he'd even consider it. But Steve held so much power over him, could destroy him with just a few words. Heck, Tony had told him half of the things that scared him the most, handed his weaknesses over on a silver platter. 

But he wasn't strong enough to distrust Steve, so if his trust was misplaced, he was going down - it was that simple. The others, he might be able to hold his own against one of them, but Steve?  Steve had his heart. That was it.

Bruce hummed and tapped his fingers on the table. "So it's a stealth mission."

"It'll start as stealth," Clint said. "It'll end as a smash and grab. The carriers will be guarded. We can only stay a secret for so long."

Natasha looked around the room at the gathered group. "We might need some more firepower."

Steve slowly raised his hand. "I think I know someone who can help…"

**

Sam showed up the next morning, trailing after Steve out of the quinjet. Tony disliked Sam from the start, entirely based on the way his eyes trailed over Steve's neck when he wasn't looking. Sam wanted Steve on his knees, and - already distinctly on edge - Tony wanted to growl and punch him in the face. For all he knew, they were already sceneing, already fucking. Would Steve tell him? Or would he figure it was better for both of them if he kept it to himself, kept his worlds separate?

Tony couldn't deny that Sam's skills would be useful, but he couldn't look at him without simultaneously wanting to guard his property and wanting to shove Steve at Sam so he could just be with someone who could make him happy, already.

It wasn't long before Tony excused himself to work on reprogramming the Insight chips. He spent the rest of the day with pounding music on, lost in the code. When he was nearing the finish line, Natasha joined him and they worked through the last of the bugs together. Natasha didn't bring up Sam, Steve, SHIELD, HYDRA, or Tony's parents, and for that he was grateful.

By the time the chips were done and JARVIS took over testing, Tony was itchy, sore, hungry, and dehydrated. He hit his apartment, took a shower, ate, and passed out. The next day, JARVIS delivered a message that Natasha and Clint had gone over every contact, schedule, and file they still had from SHIELD and decided that the next morning was the best time to make their assault. So Tony had the rest of the day and that was it.

He went down to his office and worked through SI stuff for a few hours - subtly prepping his work for his absence, should he not return from the mission - then, when he couldn't stand it any longer, he went to find Steve. JARVIS told him he was in the common room, so Tony went there. Clint and Natasha were sprawled on the couch, legs twined together, and Steve was curled up in armchair with a book, thankfully Sam-less. Tony leaned against the doorway and watched him, watched his eyes flick back and forth across the page, his lip tuck between his teeth, his eyebrows twitch up.

It was only a few moments before Steve sensed he was being watched and his eyes snapped up to find Tony there, one shoulder against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, gaze glued to Steve. Steve stared back, pink flushing over his cheeks. Tony tipped his chin up, towards the penthouse, and Steve nodded, eyes flicking briefly to Clint and Natasha who hadn't seemed to notice anything. 

Tony slipped away again, stepping in the elevator and riding up to the penthouse. He'd barely had time to take his jacket off and roll his sleeves up before the door opened and Steve stepped inside. Tony smiled. "Good boy."

Steve's flush deepened. "Where do you want me?"

"On your knees in the living room," Tony said, going to the closet and pulling out two boxes. He brought them back in to find Steve had stripped down to his boxer briefs (a deep red, and Tony couldn't help wondering if that was for him) and fallen to his knees in front of the huge picture windows. Early evening light bathed his pale skin in warm oranges and Tony stopped and let the image take his breath away for a moment. 

Steve noticed once again that he was being watched and blinked up at Tony, eyes already going soft. "Like this?"

"Perfect." Tony dropped to his knees in front of Steve and pushed the hair back out of his eyes, tipping his chin up. "Can I tie you up again?"

Steve nodded. "Anything."

"Okay." Tony couldn't help leaning forward and brushing his lips over Steve's forehead. He opened one of the boxes and pulled out a set of leather straps, littered with buckles and hooks. Bright gold shone against the dark green leather. The thickest went around Steve's waist, then he had him sit up and he strapped a band around each thigh. When Steve kneeled again, Tony clipped his waist to his thighs, locking him in the position. "How's that?" He tugged at the straps, testing the give.

"Amazing. Thank you."

Tony moved around to his back and bound his wrists, clipping them to the waist piece as well. He finished with a matching collar, pulling a long strip down from the centre of the collar to snap to the waist piece. Steve was already breathing heavily, eyes closed and mouth open. 

Tony settled in front of him, legs stretched out on either side of Steve, back resting against the legs of his coffee table. "You look incredible like that. Knew it'd be a good colour for you."

"Yes, Tony," Steve slurred.

"One more piece." Tony pulled the other box into his lap, and Steve's eyes fluttered open. Tony pulled a gag out, a long, thick strip of leather with a gold circle in the middle that would lock his mouth open. "Your pretty lips will look good wrapped around this." Tony met Steve's eyes and frowned. He had an odd expression, eyes fixed to the gag. "Steve?" Tony shifted closer and ran his knuckle down Steve's chest, grounding him. "You okay?"

Steve didn't tear his eyes away from the gag, mouth working but nothing coming out. When Tony shifted closer, the gag hitting Steve's cheek as he moved to cup Steve's jaw, Steve flinched back. _ "Valkyrie," _ Steve breathed.

Tony froze, flushing cold then hot. Steve had never safeworded in all the things they'd done. Something was wrong; Tony had made a mistake. Tony's gut instinct was to tear everything off, drag Steve into bed, wrap him in a thousand blankets and hold him until he was okay, but he'd promised that a safeword wouldn't end a scene, and he had to hold to that to keep Steve's trust. He tossed the gag on the floor a few feet away, and Steve let out a slow breath. "Can I touch you?" Tony asked softly.

Steve nodded. "Yes, Tony."

Tony cupped his jaw, hand empty this time and petted his thumb across Steve's cheek. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

"I'm okay. No pain. I just -" Steve cut himself off. He was already halfway down, and Tony could see him fighting the tide, trying to find words.

"Do you want me to unclip you?"

"No!" Steve looked panicky. "Please don't. Don't stop. I just - I can't - um…" His eyes went back to the gag where it lay on the floor.

"You don't want me to gag you."

Steve nodded again. "I can't."

"That's okay. I'm going to put it away, okay?"

"Okay." 

Tony pressed a quick kiss to Steve's forehead. He shoved the gag back in its box then stood and took it to the doorway to the bedroom, not wanting to go out of sight himself, but needing the box to be. He threw it on the bed from where he was, not caring when it bounced to the floor, then came back and sat in front of Steve. "Is everything else okay?" He touched the collar lightly. "Was this too much?"

Steve shook his head. "No, no. I love this, all of it. I - I just used to have asthma, before the serum. The thought of not breathing or having trouble breathing, it -" Steve sucked in a hard lungful of air, nearly choking on it.

"Okay, okay." Tony ran soothing hands up and down his arms. "You don't have to explain. I trust you. You say you don't want the gag - no gag. If the rest is okay and you want to keep going, we can keep going. Or I can unclip you and bring you up now."

"I want to keep going, please." 

"Okay. You're so good for me, telling me what you need.  _ Thank you,"  _ Tony almost choked on the words. Relief flooded through him, stinging his eyes. Knowing that Steve trusted him enough to keep going, enough to safeword in the first place, was worth more than everything Tony had in the bank. He wrapped his arms around Steve and hugged him close for a moment, stroking soft fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck until they were both calm enough to go on. Tony pressed a finger to Steve's lips. "No talking, okay, sweetheart. You're going to be quiet and still for me." There were safeword noise-balls in the bottom of the gag box, but Tony wouldn't need them if Steve could still speak. Tony Commanded, "The only thing you can say is your safeword. Got it?"

Steve nodded furiously. He was sinking deep again, and Tony let him go. He grabbed his tablet from the coffee table and a cushion from the couch and settled where he could watch.

"Hey, JARVIS, pull up some screens and give me more angles." Hologram screens popped to life, and Steve's eyes went wide as they filled with images of him, from all angles, showing every place where the thick bands of leather hugged his bare skin. Tony watched him blush as his eyes jumped from screen to screen. He shifted a little, squirming. "Be still," Tony Commanded, and Steve's eyes snapped back to him. "Your only job is to look pretty for me." He grinned. "Subs should be seen and not heard."

A small smile ghosted across Steve's lips, and he settled in, eyes falling shut and breathing evening out. He found the rock solid stillness the serum seemed to have gifted him with, and Tony let himself appreciate him openly. He was so beautiful, smooth lines curving around thick cords of muscle. Tony wanted to taste every inch of that skin. He folded his legs up to hide his body's interest, should Steve's eyes open again. He spent the next half hour alternating between working and gazing at Steve's perfect submission, laid out in front of him. 

When it was time to bring Steve up, Tony moved slowly and deliberately, crawling across the floor to settle at his side. He worked the clips open and undid the buckles, pulling off the leather straps until Steve was free again. He eased Steve - now so high on subspace he was barely awake - down onto his back and stretched out his limbs, rubbing life into them one at a time. "You okay? You can talk now."

But it seemed he couldn't talk through the gravity weighing his tongue down. Steve blinked and smiled then nodded. "...Good."

Tony let Steve float for a while, falling into his own comfortable cushion of satisfaction, the itch that burned in his gut finally sated by Steve's submission. When he couldn't reasonably drag it out any longer, Tony brought Steve up as gently and slowly as he could. Steve asked for a shower when he was mostly up, and Tony let him go, reheating some pasta for both of them while the shower ran. 

Steve reappeared, redressed, cheeks pink and eyes downcast. "Sorry about that," he muttered.

Tony dropped the block of parmesan back on the counter and grabbed Steve by the shoulder. "Don't you  _ dare  _ ever be sorry for telling me what you need, okay?" 

"I should have warned you before that I can't have my breathing restricted."

Tony's heart clenched. It was the kind of thing they would have laid out in a contract. "Not your fault." He furrowed his fingers through Steve's hair then pulled him close. "Not your fault. I'm glad you safeworded. That was a really good scene. I feel really good."

"I feel good too."

"Hungry?"

"Yes, please."

They ate dinner with Tony on the couch and Steve on the floor, tucked up against his legs. He was mostly up, but a little fog of subspace stayed wrapped around him, and Tony let him linger there. He couldn't pretend that he hadn't put him there just so he could say, "Do you want to come up the rest of the way, or do you want to stay here tonight?" when the movie ended.

"Here?" Steve asked. "If that's okay."

"Of course." 

They climbed in bed together, and Steve wrapped around Tony, head on his stomach, one knee hooked over his calf. Tony petted his hair idly and stared at the ceiling.  _ Keep me,  _ Steve had asked, what felt like years ago now. For the first time, Tony really thought he might get to, that Steve would stay without a contract. They figured things out, they made things work between the two of them; that was all that really mattered, right?

And Steve clearly trusted him, cared about him, maybe even loved him. Tony should tell him... maybe? He could tell Steve how he felt, how much he loved him, that he wanted to keep him, without a contract, and maybe Steve would smile and kiss him again and they'd get their forever. Tomorrow, they'd be breaking into SHIELD and putting both their lives at risk - maybe Tony should tell him before just in case. Then if something happened to either of them, Steve would still know he was loved. 

Tony closed his eyes and sunk into the feeling of Steve's slow, steady, comfortable breaths against his hip. They could make this work.

**

Tony woke up only a few hours later, anxiety rushing through him and shooting him awake. He must have been dreaming, but the details had drifted away. There was a ghost of a hand squeezing his lungs so he slipped out of bed, needing to move. Steve didn't wake, curled up on the other side of the bed, deeply asleep.

Tony went to the kitchen, desperately in need of some bitter chocolate to make him feel grounded again, but his candy drawer was empty. He swore softly. "Hey, J? If Steve wakes up, let me know right away. And let him know I'm just downstairs and I'll be right back."

"Of course," JARVIS said softly.

Tony pulled on a sweatshirt from the back of the couch and slipped out of the penthouse. He went down to the common floor and made a beeline for the kitchen. Bruce had left some dark hot chocolate in the cupboard - Tony was sure of it - and the heat of that would add an extra layer of comfort. Tony was pulling the milk out of the fridge when someone cleared their throat behind him. He spun around to find Sam leaning against the kitchen island. 

"Sorry if I startled you, man," Sam said with a chuckle.

Tony waved the milk in his direction. "Course not, knew you were there the whole time."

Sam laughed. "Can't sleep?"

Tony shrugged. "Just needed a midnight sugar hit, you know how it goes."

"Yeah, I know how it goes. Mind making double?"

"Not at all." Tony busied himself with the pot for the milk and finding a spoon. He wasn't sure how to act around Sam for several reasons, not the least of which was that he didn't know if Sam knew about him and Steve, and they needed Sam's help. He didn't want to start something just because he couldn't temper the Dom inside him.

"I'm not going to steal your sub," Sam said pointedly, and Tony flinched. Well, that answered that question. He thought he was being subtle. He wondered if he was about to get a shovel talk instead of a challenge.

"I have no idea what you mean," he said lightly. "No clue…" but he shot Sam the first smile he'd managed since he met him.

Sam laughed again. "It's cool, man. I get it. If I had a sub like Steve, I'd be protective too. I'll admit, he caught my eye when we first met, but he talks about you so much, I barely had time to try and formulate a pickup line before he had stamped 'taken' all over himself."

Tony coughed. "I mean… it's not like… we're not contracted."

"Yeah, I know." Sam waved it away as meaningless. "But everyone can see it won't be long. You guys have it bad for each other. And Steve's super excited to be contracted, between you and me. I know when you ask him, he's going to yes with bells on. Invite me to the party, yeah?"

Tony focused hard on making the spoon go round and round in the milk pot, steady and methodical. 

"You know," Sam went on, voice dropping lower, "I see a lot of trauma and pain in my line of work - my legit line of work - I see a lot of people who lost loved ones, who do the tough shit to keep this country safe, and the ones who do best are the ones who have contracts to go home to, subs who have that safety net to catch them and Doms who have someone always at their feet. Steve doesn't talk about it a lot, but I know he's seen some shit. You keep him steady, keep him sane, help him heal. He really doesn't shut up about you. Gets annoying." Sam laughed again. "But your signature is going to mean the world to him. I was a bit worried that someone could live up to that, but now that I've met you, I've seen what he was talking about. It's obvious you love him."

Tony opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"Sorry, didn't mean to embarrass you. You can pretend I didn't say anything."

Tony looked up, and Sam winked. It was too much to process, too painful to process. Tony poured the hot chocolate mix in the pot and worked on getting the clumps out, blending it with the milk. But he couldn't help but ask, "He talked about contracting with me?" Maybe Sam was projecting, adding the layers he was expecting, but that weren't there.

"Oh yeah. He said you guys are taking it slow, which, fair, I get it. It's a big commitment for someone like him, who takes stuff like that so seriously. But he's ready. I don't think I'm betraying his confidence to say that. He couldn't wait. Writing it in his head when he daydreams, all that stuff. It's cute as shit."

Tony wanted to throw the pot of chocolate against the wall and walk out, get the armour, and just fly forever, until he found the edge of the world, then tip over it into nothing. He'd been lying to himself, kidding himself that Steve understood. But Steve thought they were taking it slow. And Tony had dodged every conversation about contracts that might have come up because he was too afraid to face even talking about it, the fear that kept him from signing, creeping up on all sides around the whole concept. So Steve clearly thought that was where they were headed, the inevitable culmination of this relationship. But Tony  _ couldn't.  _ He couldn't. He'd put the work in, gone to therapy and tried and tried to be okay with it, but he just  _ wasn't.  _

Steve needed it. There was no question about that.

And Tony couldn't be what he needed.

Tony poured the hot chocolate in two mugs with shaky hands. "Sorry," he muttered, not meeting Sam's eye. "I just thought of something I should check with the Insight chips. I'd better go do it now, in case there's an issue to fix before we go."

"Sure, man." Sam took his mug. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Tony said stiffly.

"I hope I didn't cross a line, there. Steve didn't say you'd told him not to talk to anyone about you two. But if I said something -"

"No, no. It wasn't that. It's fine. I just - I was thinking. Sorry. I've got programming on my mind. Can we talk another time?"

"Sure, sure. You gotta focus on the mission. Appreciate it. Anything I can do?"

"No, it's alright. Thanks for the company. Night."

"Night. Thanks for the hot chocolate."

Tony scurried into the elevator with his mug then leaned back against the cool metal wall and tried to breathe again. He had to end it; there was no other humane choice for either of them. He'd let this thing drag on, lying to himself that Steve was okay with it, but faced with the absolute confirmation that he wasn't, Tony couldn't hide in denial anymore. It'd hurt, both of them, but he had to tell Steve the truth, that there was absolutely no way he could ever contract. It was completely off the table. And they had to end their relationship. Steve needed to find a Dom who could give him what he needed.

But tomorrow they were going to go risk their lives, and that meant Tony couldn't do it now. He couldn't distract Steve like that before a battle that was going to be as difficult and emotional as this was already going to be.  

As soon as they were back from the mission, Tony would tell him. Tony would end it, before either of them could fall in any deeper. He had to.

Tony's finger hovered over the button for the penthouse, but he couldn't bring himself to push it. He jabbed the number for the workshop instead then rubbed stiff fingers over weary eyes. "JARVIS, cancel my last order. When Steve wakes up, apologize for me and tell him I had to run down to the workshop to prep for the mission. Tell him I'll see him before we go out."

"Yes, sir," JARVIS said, and Tony wondered if there was a bit of disapproval woven through his voice.

Tony ran to the workshop, and he hid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I upped this to Explicit because there will be sexual content coming up, I know that, and I don't want to spoil it by revealing which chapter(s) it'll be in.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I've upped the rating to Explicit in anticipation of eventual adult material. It may or may not be because of this, or any upcoming chapter. If anyone wants specific spoilers to know what to skip and when, you can always pm me on tumblr or send me a non-anon ask.

Tony resurfaced a few hours later, hating himself for leaving Steve alone. Steve was always up from subspace when he woke up post-scene, but it was still dangerous and selfish not to check on him. Tony told himself he had JARVIS to look out for Steve, but the truth was, he was hiding. 

Finding Steve safe and comfortable on the common floor with the others didn't make Tony feel any better. "Tony," he said brightly when the door opened. "Did you sort out the issue with the chip?"

Natasha shot Tony a far too calculating look and he cleared his throat and avoided her eye. "Yup. Turned out to be nothing. Game day jitters." He added, "Sorry," as an awkward afterthought, and Steve shook his head smiling with far too much easy forgiveness.

Tony shifted through the mission brief while Steve and Natasha reviewed the plan for everyone. They were going to go in quiet, hit the STRIKE team offensively, then blast straight up to the top floor to get a hold of Pierce. With him contained, and the STRIKE team offline, they'd be able to keep Insight from going live until they sorted out just how deeply HYDRA ran in SHIELD's veins. If that didn't work out, Tony had three chips that would override the helicarriers' programming, and between him and Sam, they'd get them in. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

"I tried Thor again," Clint said. "Nothing's getting through."

"Okay, looks like it's just us." Steve rapped his knuckles on the table. "Let's move out."

Steve caught Tony's eye as they were packing up, looking like he wanted to talk to him, and as much as Tony wanted to blast out of there and fend of facing him as long as he could, he couldn't bear to send Steve into battle potentially thinking he was mad at him. "Hey." He sidled up to where Steve was packing up the last of his go-bag. "You alright?"

"Yup. You?"

Tony nodded. "Sorry I left. I couldn't sleep once I thought there might be a problem with the code."

"That's alright, Tony. This is much more important. I don't mind. I take too much of your time as it is."

"Steve -" Tony grabbed his wrist and squeezed lightly. "Time well spent. Always."

"Thank you." Steve stared at him for a long, charged moment. "If we don't -"

"Don't. Don't do that." Tony clapped him on the shoulder. He let his hand drift down his back afterward. "We're all coming back."

"Tony…" Steve pinched the hem of Tony's shirt, hand hidden under the table, and tugged him closer. "If we don't…"

"If we don't, then I know, okay?" Tony couldn't help but say softly, eyes dropping to the floor. "I know. Me too. We have to go."

"Okay," Steve breathed.

This was going to be one hell of a fire to put out after, but Tony was tumbling downhill now, wheels flying off, seat belt snapping. God, he was in so much trouble. He clenched his mouth shut before he could say anything else stupid, gave Steve one last rub on his lower back, and turned away. He called the armour to him, and once it had locked tightly around him, he opened a storage flap in the side and tucked the three Insight chips inside.

**

The Avengers hit SHIELD HQ fast and quiet, breaking into the stairwell and swarming upstairs. Their goal was to get up to the top floors to seize control of the main consoles before Pierce had a chance to do anything with Insight in response to their assault. 

They made it up four floors, a shout and the sight of Captain America, Iron Man, and the rest of the Avengers swarming up enough to bring most of the low-level agents to their knees, hands up. But Tony wasn't surprised when the a door burst open and the entire STRIKE team poured into the stairwell, weapons up, screaming at the Avengers to drop theirs.

The team split up, bursting out onto the fifth floor and bringing the STRIKE team along with them. Tony lost track of Steve in the flurry, and forced himself not to look for him, focusing on the task at hand. Tony ended up trapped in a tight hallway with Rollins, unable to use his flight to his advantage. Rollins used electromagnetic cuffs to try and pin Tony's wrists to a metal door, and it took a blast from the central repulsor straight to his chest to bring Rollins down. Tony clipped his wrists together then stood when he heard a shout from down the hall. 

Tony rounded the corner just in time to see Steve twist Rumlow's arm up behind his back, dropping him to his knees with another cry. Steve leaned forward and hissed something at the downed agent then let his arm go. Rumlow clutched it to his chest, breathing heavily. Steve slammed his foot down on the edge of his nearby shield and it popped up into the air. He snatched it by its edge and swung it to the side without hesitation, smacking Rumlow across the face and dropping him to the ground in an unconscious heap. Steve stood there for a moment staring at him, jaw tight, breathing heavily, then he snapped the shield to his back and turned towards Tony. "Everyone secure?"

Tony nodded. "STRIKE is down. Natasha says Pierce is upstairs."

Steve stepped over Rumlow's limp body and Tony followed him back to where Natasha and Clint were zip-tying the agents' wrists in a complicated spiral. Steve got Rumlow and added him to the pile, then the whole team piled out into the stairway again, and pounded up, unimpeded, to the top floor where Pierce's office was. 

He was waiting for them, sitting at his desk. When the Avengers stormed through the door, he raised his hands in surrender, but he was smiling. He lowered his hands again. "I was wondering when you'd show up. Just in time to see the fireworks." He gestured towards his computer screen, and Tony saw the program for Insight loaded up and ready to go. If they didn't either stop Pierce or get the chips in the helicarriers, Insight was going to start killing people today.

Tony let his repulsors fire up enough to glow his palms blue and pointed both at Pierce. "Give it up, Major Toht. It's over."

Pierce smiled. "It's far from over. We're on the verge of something incredible here, Stark, don't you see? Digging order out of chaos. It's a beautiful thing. The world is going to become a better place tonight, and I'm glad you're all here to see it happen."

Tony shared a quick glance with Natasha and he could see she was as tense as he was. Pierce should have been surrendering, but he was acting like a man with a card still up his sleeve. 

"You're nervous," Pierce said, "That's fair. Change is scary. But it's easier if you accept it as inevitable. With my secret weapon at my side, nothing can stop me. Nothing can stop  _ progress." _

Clint's bowstring tightened. "Your secret weapons are about to be dust. Step away from the console."

"Oh?" Pierce chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. "I see. You think the helicarriers are my secret weapon. Don't be silly. I need something to protect my investment. You think the Avengers were somehow inoculated against the spread of HYDRA? Of course not. Your vanity will be your downfall. HYDRA is everywhere, all-seeing, all controlling." 

Tony's heart was pounding in his chest. The mole Zola had talked about. Could it be true? He forced his eyes to stay fixed on Pierce, instead of flicking to the side to take in the forms of his teammates. 

Pierce turned and smiled at Steve. "Come here," he Commanded, crooking a finger.

Tony opened his mouth to tell Pierce to fuck off, when Steve's shoulders drooped and he started walking across the floor towards Pierce. Tony took an involuntary step after him. "What the fuck? Steve?  _ Steve." _

"He won't listen to you now, Stark," Pierce said, too casually, as he ripped Tony's heart out of his chest. "I know you have your little crush, but Captain America belongs to me. It's been cute, watching you chase after him.  _ Kneel." _ Pierce pointed at the ground at his feet, and Steve dropped like an anvil, arms limp at his sides, chin tilted up towards Pierce. He went still.

Nat twitched towards them. "What did you do to him?"

Tony couldn't make his mouth move. His stomach clenched, chest aching, everything inside him screaming for him to reclaim what was his. His feet shifted forward, and Pierce tensed, eyes fixing on Tony. "Try it," he hissed.   


Tony stilled.

"I didn't have to do anything, Agent Romanoff," Pierce went on, eyes still fixed on Tony. "Rogers was mine the day he was turned into Captain America. I owe all that to your father, Tony. You know, when he wasn't able to make the serum work, he moved on. He developed a new drug, one that could put subs so deep into subspace they couldn't come out again. And you know how susceptible a sub is in that place. You can train them to do… almost anything."

Tony lurched forward. "Fuck you!" 

"Stop him," Pierce snapped, and Steve spun up to his feet, whipping a gun out of his holster and levelling it straight at Natasha, safety off.

Tony froze, and he could feel Clint do the same at his side. _ "Steve," _ he begged, but Steve's eyes were overcast, unfocused, his jaw set. There was no warmth or recognition, just the deep, dark of subspace, lost to anything but Pierce's control. "You brainwashed him," he spat.

"I made him into the perfect weapon," Pierce corrected. "Fury was a coward. He just wanted a super soldier - I had the vision to see how damaged that plan was. With free will - he might turn into anything!" He gestured with one hand as he turned away from the group, pacing along the window then back again, his other hand sliding into his pocket. Steve stayed stockstill, gun pointed straight at Natasha's head. "No, no, we needed control. I think Fury really believed it would turn him into a Dom. I knew better. And I knew the power we would have at our fingertips with Captain America a sub. It was perfect. And now he's perfect. And mine. Insight needs to happen, Stark. It's time we brought world security into the future." Pierce stopped in front of the computer, then he looked up, one finger hovering over the keyboard. "Rogers? Stop the Avengers. Whatever means necessary."

Steve's finger started to squeeze on the trigger, and Tony fired, knocking Steve's arm away with a repulsor blast. He snapped back into position but Nat was already on the move, rolling low then kicking up to knock the gun out of Steve's hand.

Tony twisted towards Pierce, but he was already gone, the computer screen flashing DEPLOYED in big red letters. Tony caught Natasha's eye and she nodded, slipping under Steve's arm to bolt for the stairway door after Pierce. Steve charged after her, but Tony fired the repulsors and slammed into his back, bringing them both to the ground. 

"Hulk!" Tony shouted over the comms, wrestling a growling Steve into his hold. "Go stop the helicarriers!"

Hulk roared then ran across the room, bursting through the window and showering everyone in broken glass. Tony pinned Steve's arms to his sides, squeezing as tightly as he dared with his thighs. "Come on, Steve. Listen to me. You don't have to obey Pierce's Command."

But Steve just growled again then shifted hard, throwing Tony off him. He rolled twice, grabbed his shield and his gun. He fired off three rounds at Tony, lifting the shield to whack him across the face, when Falcon shot across the room and wrapped his arms around Steve's middle, wings bursting wide. They both tumbled out of the broken window, a hundred stories high.

"Shit!" Tony dove after them. 

Sam and Steve wrestled as they plummeted through the air, and Tony could tell Sam was trying to subdue Steve without hurting him or dropping him, but it was just making him vulnerable. Tony opened his mouth to yell for Sam to let Steve go, he'd catch him, but Steve cracked Sam across the jaw and his wings twisted, sending them both spinning through the air. They collided with the side of one of the helicarriers, smashing through the control module at the bottom and landing in a tumble on the floor. 

Tony opened the hatch in the armour and pulled out two of the three replacement chips. He charged between Steve and Sam, slamming Steve against the wall and stunning him briefly. Tony turned and tossed the chips to Sam. "Get those to the other carriers. Between you and Hulk, you should be able to ground them. We can't let any of these get off the ground. I'll handle this one." Tony turned back to where Steve was shakily pushing back to his feet. "And Steve."

"Got it." Sam blasted off, and Tony was left alone with Steve.

"Steve, sweetheart, you don't want to fight me," Tony tried, but Steve just growled and launched himself across the space, colliding with Tony. They struggled for a moment, rolling on the floor. Tony was afraid to use the full force of the suit, needing Steve incapacitated but unhurt. Even now, he couldn't bear to hurt him.

Steve got Tony under him and slammed the edge of the shield into the armour. "Okay, that's it," Tony grumbled. He fired the repulsor straight into Steve's face, knocking him backwards. "I don't have time for you right now." Steve rolled to his feet and charged again, but Tony feinted right then spun left, knocking Steve off his feet with a sharp shoulder to his side. Steve stumbled, losing his balance and slipped down to the lower level of the control module. Tony fired the repulsors and shot up to the control deck. He pulled out the third chip and slotted it into place, letting out a breath of relief when the light turned blue. The override had been accepted; Tony's code worked.

Something collided with Tony's leg and he tumbled off the platform with a pained grunt. The shock jolted right through the armour and up his side. Steve appeared in his periphery, catching the shield as it ricocheted back to his hand. He charged, but when Tony rolled out of his path, arms snapping up to cover his face on autopilot, Steve ran right past him. He jumped up, grabbed the edge of a catwalk and flipped himself up to the control platform. 

"Shit," Tony swore, pushing shakily to his feet. His leg threatened to give out under him, but it wasn't broken. He looked down to find a two inch gash in the boot of the armour. There was blood around the edge of it. "Shit, shit, shit." He stumbled forward a few steps. "Steve!" He could feel the tremor in his voice. Steve shot a look back towards him then continued walking towards where the chip was.

Tony fired the repulsors again and though his left was a bit stuttery, it still worked. He landed on the platform behind Steve. As soon as his feet clanged on the metal catwalk, Steve spun around and flung the shield again. Tony threw himself to the side and landed hard on the ground, wrenching his injured leg again.  _ "Fuck."  _

Steve reached for the chip.

Tony flipped the faceplate up.  _ "Stop!"  _ he yelled, summoning all of his Command, desperate. Steve stilled, arm out towards the control module, hesitating. "Steve. Don't touch the chip." Tony did everything he could to keep his voice from shaking. "Come here."

Steve didn't move for a long time, and Tony waited, every muscle tensed for flight. He could hear gunfire through the air and through his comm, shouting, but he didn't have any processor power to listen to it; every atom of his attention was focused on Steve.

_ "Steve." _

Steve turned on his heel, slowly. He blinked furiously down at his hand which was still outstretched in front of him, like he was trying to remember what it was for.

"Come up. Come on, sweet thing. I need you to focus." Tony snapped his fingers, and Steve's gaze jumped up to him. "Come up. Shake it off. It's just you and me."

A shudder ran through Steve's body, and he blinked away more of the haze. 

"That's it. Good boy."

Something in Steve melted at the praise and he looked up at Tony, his brow furrowed. "Ton-?"

The helicarrier exploded.

"Fuck!" The faceplate snapped down automatically as Tony was propelled into the air, spinning wildly for a moment until he could get the repulsors firing. He banked hard around the Triskelion and looped back around in time to see Steve's limp body plummet into the Potomac, fiery debris smashing into the water all around him. 

The three helicarriers had followed their new instructions and turned on each other. All three enormous machines continued their open fire, even as they fell to pieces. Tony set his repulsors to full blast and arced down, plunging into the water where he'd seen Steve disappear. The river was a mess of exploding light and dark shadows, and Tony could feel the water leaking in around the hole in his boot. He wouldn't have long to find Steve, not just because Steve was unconscious and underwater, but because in only a few minutes, the suit would be too full of water to fly and Tony would drown along with him.

He cursed in frustration as he dodged sinking debris and shoots of lava-hot boiling water, orange with the reflection from the fires above them.

Then he saw it - a glint of blue metal: the shield on Steve's back. Tony churned after him, pushing the arc reactor to its limits until he could feel it vibrating in his chest. He grabbed a handful of Steve's shield harness, turned towards the bright light of the sky, and took off.

Cold water rushed up to his waist and for a moment the repulsors spluttered and faltered, and then they burst free, hitting open air. Tony spun around and aimed for the bank, rolling so he hit the ground back-first, with Steve's limp body clutched in his arms. Dirt sprayed up around them as he skidded to a halt and the faceplate snapped up, letting glorious fresh air in. Tony gulped up the oxygen, even as he rolled Steve gently on the ground and pushed up to his knees.

"Steve? Are you okay? Come on, baby, wake up." Tony flicked a finger and the gauntlet melted back, revealing his fingers. He pressed them to the chilled skin of Steve's neck, but he couldn't find a pulse. "Steve? JARVIS, you're going to have to walk me through CPR." His hands were shaking, but Tony fumbled the buttons open on Steve's suit, freeing his neck, and Steve jerked suddenly and started coughing. "Oh fuck." Tony clapped his hand to his face and scrubbed over his eyes then helped Steve roll on his side, vomiting up murky river water onto the dirt. "You're okay, sweet thing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You're okay."

Steve groaned and flopped onto his back, chest heaving. "Tony?"

"Yeah, I'm here. You're safe. I've got you."

Steve's eyes fluttered open and fixed on Tony. They were clear and conscious, in control. Tony breathed in, and it felt like the first true breath he'd managed since Pierce had Commanded Steve to kneel and he'd done it. Steve reached up towards Tony where he still knelt at his side, but he didn't touch him, his hand falling back to the ground. "Guess it was your turn to watch me nearly die."

Tony barked out a broken laugh. "I don't like being on this side of things. No more nearly dying, okay?"

"Only if you promise, too," Steve said with a weak smile.

"I promise," Tony said, knowing he was almost certainly lying. He stroked his fingers over Steve's cheek and cupped his jaw.

Steve settled back and locked their gazes together, lips parting slightly. His tongue darted out and skated over the bottom one. His chest rose and fell with another heavy breath. "Did anyone kiss me?" he asked breathlessly.

It should have been a joke. Tony wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell Steve he wasn't getting off so easy, this time. He wanted to promise him shawarma. But instead he whispered,  _ "Yes," _ and bent to press his lips to Steve's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh things are getting tense! I can't believe how close to the end we're getting guys, but there's still three chapters of drama left to happen :O Thanks for reading!! <3


	14. Chapter 14

Their kiss was cut short by Sam barking in Tony's ear. "Stark? Rogers? Barton? Romanoff? Status!"

"I've got Steve," Tony said, pulling back only far enough to speak, their lips still brushing when he spoke. Steve chased after him, stealing another kiss. Tony pressed into it for a moment before backing off again to assure Sam, "We're okay."

"I found Fury," Clint said. "Come meet me at the containment level. Sub-floor 9."

Tony sat back hard on the ground, groaning as his bleeding leg protested. 

"I hurt you." Steve pushed up to his knees and reached for Tony.

"Nope. I'm fine. We can do the patching up later." Tony rocked up to his feet then took Steve's hand and pulled him up after. "You lose your comm? Clint needs us."

Steve's hand went to his ear. "It must have fallen out in the water." He bent over for a moment then coughed wetly and straightened up. "Is everyone okay?"

"Sam and Clint checked in. Bruce seems to be doing great." They looked out at the Hulk, ripping the remains of the helicarriers apart on the bridge of the Triskelion, tossing pieces into the water and roaring. "Nat?"

"I'm fine. I'm on my way to Barton."

"She's fine too," Tony relayed to Steve. "Can you walk?"

Steve shook off Tony's worried hands. "I'm okay. Let's go."

The team assembled on sub-floor 9, where they found Clint holding a badly beaten Fury with an arm around his waist. They helped move him up to the only clear half of the main floor, leaning him against the wall while they waited for med support. SHIELD was in chaos, agents running and yelling, but it was background noise to Tony. His team was okay; his sub was okay.

Not his.

Steve. Steve was okay.

"Tony?"

Tony snapped to attention. "I'm listening."

Nat eyed him but she continued her story. "- caught him on the helipad."

"You got Pierce?" Tony clarified.

She met his eyes. "He's dead."

"Thank you."

She nodded once. "Steve, are you okay?"

"Yeah, what  _ was _ that?" Clint asked. "Did he use Loki's scepter?"

Steve shook his head. "No. No, it was Rebirth."

"They programmed you," Nat said. Hill arrived, an armful of first aid clutched to her chest, and she and Clint knelt next to Fury, working their way methodically over his injuries while he winced and squeezed his eyes closed. "While you were under. They added something to the super soldier serum to bring you down."

"So it wasn't just the pain," Steve mused. "They drugged me."

"They used you," Sam added.

"Who else?" Steve asked. "Who else can control me with a single word?"

Nat shook her head. "No one. I found the files after I neutralized Pierce and used his fingerprint to open them. It was just him." Shee met Steve's eye. "And he's dead. I took care of it."

Steve took a slow, shaky breath in then nodded. "Thank you." His hands dropped to his belt, standing firm, but Tony could see the tremor in his fingers. 

He reached out and stroked his fingers down Steve's spine, drawing a small circle in the dip of his back, then stepped away. "I don't know about you, but I have a boot full of seawater and blood so -"

"Medical," Hill snapped. "They're shipping people out to the nearby hospitals. You all need to go get checked out."

"Yes, ma'am." 

Tony lost track of Steve, helping get Fury onto a stretcher in the back of the ambulance, then flying out with Sam to help bring Bruce back, now half naked and slightly confused, stuck out on the bridge. Tony got his leg patched up by an EMT in a hallway then put the armour's boot back on, as best as he could, damaged as it was, and flew back to the tower. As he was banking around the landing pad, his phone chimed with a notification and he checked it on the suit's HUD.

_ He didn't show at the hospital. Clint said he took a quinjet,  _ Nat's text said, and Tony cursed. He made a beeline to Steve's apartment as soon as the last release popped off the armour and he was free. He knocked then pushed the door open when it wasn't locked. Steam billowed out of the open bathroom door, and Tony paced back and forth across the living room while he waited for Steve to finish his shower. When the water cut off, Tony called out to let him know he was there, and a moment later, Steve appeared, hair dripping, a towel slung low around his hips. 

"Tony?"

"Are you okay? Nat said you skipped medical." Tony stepped closer and peered at Steve, eyes raking clinically over the dark bruises that mottled his skin. 

Steve folded his free arm around his stomach, the other keeping his towel around his waist. "I'm fine." The heat from the shower pinked his cheeks, pouring off him and drawing Tony in closer. 

Tony cupped his cheek and tipped Steve's face towards him, frowning at a cut across his brow. "Are you sure?"

Steve didn't answer, eyes bright and wide and fixed on Tony's. They hung there for a moment, scant inches between them, caught on the edge of something, then Steve leaned in and pressed his lips to Tony's. Tony surged forward into it, drawn by the heat of Steve's skin. He caught Steve around the waist and drove their mouths together, snapping against him like a magnet, need crackling hot and alive through his veins. Steve breathed Tony's name between them, and Tony pulled back, breaking the kiss even as he started driving Steve backwards towards the bedroom, the towel falling forgotten in the hallway.

"Are you safe?" Tony asked, forcing himself to find Steve's gaze and hold it, cupping his face between both hands. "Tell me you're -"' If Steve was down, they couldn't - he wouldn't -

"Yes. Yes. I'm up, I'm good. I -  _ Tony."  _ Steve's hands found Tony's hips and gripped too hard. He met his gaze with challenge, here and wanting and present, and Tony gave in.

Tony charged forward into another kiss, and Steve stumbled back until his thighs hit the bed. Tony guided him down, climbing up to straddle his hips. He pressed his tongue between Steve's lips and licked his taste free, fingers skating down skin he'd explored so many times before, but never like this. "Undress me," Tony ordered, leaving the Command out of his voice. He needed Steve to be completely here for this.

Steve's hands snapped to the undersuit, not breaking the kiss as he eased the zipper down then pushed the skin tight fabric off Tony's shoulders. Tony wriggled out of its hold and shoved it to the ground then climbed back up, driving Steve backwards onto the bed until his head found the pillows. Tony trailed kisses down his cheeks to his neck then along his collar bone.

There were cuts and bruises all over Steve, too many from Tony's hands, and he traced them with his fingers then followed with soft kisses.

"Tony," Steve breathed, heady and punch drunk, but staying up out of subspace.

"Stay with me," Tony murmured into Steve's skin as he worked his way down. 

Steve's hands clenched on Tony's shoulders then skated up through his hair and back down. He flushed and squirmed. "Don't tease, me Tony, please. I need -"

"I know. Me too." Tony dropped flush against him and rolled his hips to drag their cocks together. Steve moaned and wrapped his arms around Tony's shoulders again. He pulled him down against his chest and they rocked together, pressure building. "I can just -" Tony panted, tugging Steve's leg up over his hip to get more skin on skin contact. "Just like this?"

Steve ground up with a gasp. "Please, please. I need more. Tony - I'm -" 

It was everything Tony had been fantasizing about for weeks and all his self-control went out the window. Steve was flushed and begging, nestled between his legs, and Tony couldn't do anything but give him what he wanted. 

He fumbled blindly for the bedside table, praying that Steve had something they could use. Thankfully, there was a bottle of lube in the second drawer down, next to a vibrator that gave Tony all sorts of enthusiastic thoughts he didn't have time to get into now. He pulled the lube bottle free and spread some on his fingers. He dropped it next to Steve's hip then propped himself up over him and took in the sight of Steve stretched out and naked underneath him.

"God, you're gorgeous."

"Kiss me?" Steve asked, eyes wide, and Tony indulged him, bending down and pressing their lips together.

Tony slipped his hand between them and circled Steve's hole with one fingertip. When he pushed inside, Steve broke the kiss to bite his lip and moan, and Tony shifted down his body, drawing a line of heated kisses across his stomach. Tony licked up the length of Steve's cock then sucked him down to the base, swallowing around him and letting spit slick his path. Steve swore sharply and jerked forward, barely stopping himself before he choked Tony. 

"Oh my god, oh my god," he kept repeating, and Tony vowed to keep pushing curses out of him with his mouth and his fingers. He worked Steve open quickly, roughly, pushing him to two fingers as soon as he was giving to one, and then then three. When Steve's fingers furrowed through Tony's hair and gripped hard, Tony pulled off his cock and kissed and nipped his way back up Steve's body. 

"You okay?" he asked, voice broken and breathy.

Steve nodded. "I need you. Please?"

"I've got you, hold on." Tony's self-control was already razor thin, but when he started pushing into Steve's slick heat, it almost snapped completely.  Everything blurred into scrambling hands and breathless gasps, Steve groaning out his name, hot skin to hot skin. They wound around each other, Tony pushing deep, slow thrusts into Steve's body. The way Steve rippled and squeezed around him, drawing him in, was pushing Tony to the edge so fast he felt like he was about to lose hold and tumble off a cliff. He worked a hand between their bodies and stroked Steve's cock, swallowing down his moans and cries with deep kisses. 

They rocked together until it was too much for Tony to bear and he pushed forward with a cry, pulsing hot and full into Steve's body. As soon as he had the strength to disentangle himself, he shifted down Steve's body and sucked his cock down to the base, swirling his tongue around the head as he pulled back.

"Oh god, oh  _ shit -"  _ Steve cried. "Not long - that's not going to be long. Please - I -"

Tony replaced his cock with his fingers again, finding Steve's prostate and massaging it from the inside and outside while he sucked him roughly, giving him no time to wind back or recover.

It wasn't long before Steve's fingers were fisting in his hair as he arched up off the bed with a wordless cry and flooded Tony's mouth with bitter come.

For a while they panted together, sweat cooling on their skin, then Tony twisted off to the side and let out a long, slow breath. The easy languorousness of post-orgasm settled over them and Tony stretched out on the bed and let his eyes fall shut. His brain was offline, buzzing happily and easily. Steve curled up against his side, dropping one arm over his stomach. As he was drifting off, Tony felt a tiny kiss press to his shoulder and his heart clenched, reality starting to pour in as the high faded.

He could allow himself these few hours, to enjoy Steve at his side, but when he woke, they needed to talk.

**

In the end, Tony stumbled back into wakefulness to find Steve still snoring softly at his side. The clock on Steve's bedside table told him that only a few hours had passed, but the sun had gone down, and they hadn't turned any lights on, so the room was dark and cool. 

Tony wriggled out of bed without waking Steve and poked around in his drawers, looking for a pair of sweatpants to borrow. The cowardly part of him told him to leave, to cut and run before Steve woke up, to hide from this, keep hiding from it, but he couldn't convince himself to go. He owed Steve an explanation, and it was cruel to both of them to keep dragging this out.

He found sweatpants, as well as a rumpled pack of Marlboros shoved behind a pile of carefully paired socks. A worn lighter was tucked in the open pack, and Tony took both of them to the kitchen. He found the scotch he'd left there a few weeks ago, poured a glass, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, then took the drink and the smokes to Steve's balcony. 

Tony only smoked a couple times a year, an indulgence it seemed Steve shared, but there was no denying the satisfying calm of the first breath in, as the nicotine flooded his veins. He followed the slight burn of the smoke with the stronger burn of the scotch, curling down in a lawn chair to gaze out at the city below. 

It wasn't fair. None of this as fair. It wasn't fair that Fury had asked Tony to help with Steve in the first place. It wasn't fair the way Steve gazed up at Tony like he hung the moon, and it wasn't fair the way that look made Tony feel. It wasn't fair that Tony was about to break Steve's heart, along with putting the last crack in his own, but he had no choice. Because it was now or later - he couldn't ever be what Steve needed, and as much as Tony had tried to convince himself otherwise, Steve could never give him want he needed. No sub could, and it wasn't fair to ask.

Not fair.

Tony breathed out a curlicue of smoke with a sigh then flicked the ash away into the wind. The alcohol warmed him from the inside out, but the air was sharp, and the flush he'd taken out with him from the bed had started to fade, even wrapped in the plush blanket. 

His mind went round and round the well-trodden merry-go-round. Why couldn't they just want the same things? Why couldn't he just be normal instead of broken, partial? Why couldn't he be enough for Steve? Why did he have to  _ feel  _ the things he did? It would be so much easier to be cold. It had worked for him long enough.

He took another drag to stave off a shiver then startled up when the sliding door opened. Steve appeared in the doorway, sleep soft and rumpled, Tony's finger-furrows still marring his hair. Fuck, but he was beautiful. 

"Shit. Looks like you found my stash." Steve blushed, stepping out onto the balcony. "I blame Bucky. He'd come back from leave smoking those things and I loved the smell, but I couldn't smoke with my asthma. Now though… when I miss him, I light one up."

Tony shrugged with a smile. "It's a bad habit we share, apparently."

Steve wrapped his arms around his bare chest and hopped from foot to foot on the concrete balcony floor. "Aren't you cold?"

"I am," Tony agreed. He lifted the edge of his blanket. "Join me."

There was no Command in Tony's words, but Steve hopped to it anyway, crossing the balcony and sliding onto the chair behind Tony. He wriggled one leg on Tony's other side until Tony was leaned back against his chest, both wrapped in the blanket burrito. 

Steve wrapped one arm around Tony's waist and hugged him close. He stole the nearly-finished cigarette with his free hand and drew deeply, blowing a stream of smoke past Tony's cheek.

The night was quiet and dark, up this high, the noise and lights of the city somewhat softened. Steve's heat leaked into Tony quickly

For two full breaths, Tony let them both enjoy it.

Then he ruined everything. "I'm never going to be able to contract with you," he said to the Manhattan rooftops. "Never."

Steve went still under him, that eerie, supersoldier freeze he could achieve that never failed to steal Tony's breath. "What?"

"A contract. It's something you want, but it's something I'm never going to be able to give you. So we should stop this before anyone gets hurt."  _ More,  _ he added silently.

"What?" Steve repeated, more panicky now. "You're leaving me?"

"I can't leave you, we were never bound," Tony grumbled. His heart was pounding now, yelling at him to run, get away, end this horrible conversation before it went on any longer.

_ "Jesus," _ Steve choked out, his arms falling away from Tony's sides.

Tony inched forward on the chair, giving them both some space. Steve snubbed out the last of the cigarette, and Tony found himself aching for the last drag Steve had taken from it. He felt antsy and unsatisfied, his body expecting a certain amount of nicotine from the experience but coming up short. 

"Just like that, huh?" Steve said, eyes still on the ashtray instead of on Tony. "Can you at least tell me what I did wrong? Was it - um -" Steve gestured vaguely towards the bedroom, and Tony winced. "Was it not good? Was I not good? Cause I can go down during sex, I know I can, I just thought you didn't want me to and -" words were tumbling out of Steve too quickly, piling up on top of each other in an anxiety-laden avalanche, and Tony rushed forward to stem the flow.

He turned around to face Steve and closed his lips with one finger. "No. No, it wasn't you, Steve. Never you. You were - are - perfect. Always."

"But you don't want me."

Tony dodged the question as deftly as he could. There had never been something he'd wanted more, but it still wasn't enough, apparently. "I can't be what you need." Tony let his hand fall away, back down to his lap. "It's not a 'maybe not,' or 'not for a while' or even 'probably not.' I can't contract with you. Ever. If you're really okay with that, this can continue. But… I know you're not okay with that."

"I don't get it. How can you be so sure there's no way you could ever love me?" Steve slipped free of the blanket, and Tony winced at the goosebumps the cold air drew up under his skin.

"Wait." Tony flinched at the Command he laced through the word. Steve stilled again. "This has nothing to do with love. This is about the contract. And it's something I can never give you. I need to know you're free to leave me at any time, that this isn't binding to you."

Steve was quiet for a tense moment. Then he said, quietly, "But I need to know you won't."

Tony snapped his head up, finding Steve's eyes and boring in, looking for the sense in that. "What do you mean?"

Steve took a careful breath. "Contracts aren't just about binding a sub to their Dom, Tony, it's about letting a sub know they're safe, owned. A good contract, the right contract, it's about safety. It's about you knowing what the limits are and the sub knowing that you're not going to put them down then dump them in an alley somewhere…"

"Steve -" Tony choked out, horrified.

"I  _ know _ you'd never do that to me, I know. But I get down and sometimes I think - what if you stopped indulging me? What would I do? What if you got bored of me or I couldn't go down as nicely? Or what if I disobeyed, maybe by mistake, or maybe just because there's this little voice in my head that dares me to try it. And then what if you changed your mind? I think about Rebirth… knowing now that I was drugged, maybe that'll make it easier, but I feel like I'm on the edge of it sometimes, going down that deep. What if I sink, and you're the only one who can bring me back up, but you're busy with someone else? Or in a meeting again, when you have no excuse to get out of it? A contract doesn't limit freedom, it increases safety. Without… you can dump me anytime, however you want. And - and I'll be alone again," Steve finished quietly.

"I know that's what it means to you. And I wish I could give you that, I really do." Tony said. "But -" Tony watched Steve heart break and it nearly brought him to his knees. Despair rocked up and flushed into anger, desperate for escape. He stood and paced briskly around the balcony, pausing to tap his fingers on the edge of the railing. "I don't - I don't even get it," he finally growled, once his thoughts were properly twisted up in knots. "This obsession with contracts everyone has, like it's not possible to just be a decent fucking person and take care of a sub... And you -!" He set off pacing again. "You've been completely screwed over by SHIELD - the only time you've ever been contracted in any way - and you're saying not having one is a dealbreaker?" Tony couldn't tamp the words, the feelings, down. It seemed some secret part of him had hoped Steve would say it was fine, that they could get by without that wrenched piece of paper. "Why do you even want one? After what they did to you? After what Rumlow did to you?  _ Pierce? _ You should be  _ traumatized!  _ You should -"

_ "My trauma is not up to you!" _ Steve snapped, cutting off Tony's tirade. "Stop trying to convince me I don't want a contract just because you want me to not want one. You have no idea -!" Steve cut himself off with a heavy breath then started again, softer. "You have no idea what it would mean to me. I've never been wanted Tony, never. My mother loved me, I know, but I'm sure she wished she'd had a strong, healthy kid. She never got to see me well. My biggest worry as a kid was how she would pay for my funeral. 

"No Dom ever wanted my submission. The army didn't want me. I couldn't get a job. Even if I'd been able to afford a scene service, no one would have ever matched with me. SHIELD was the first time I'd ever been useful. They wanted something from me, and I felt needed for the first time in my life. I can't possibly explain to you what that was like, what it  _ meant _ to me. I know Rumlow took advantage, and I know he's an asshole, and he'll pay for that, has paid for that. I haven't even begun to process how angry I am at Pierce, but he's dead. And I just don't care, Tony. That's not what stays with me. That's not what makes me cold at night, sleeping in this bed alone. I think about all the years I felt broken and useless and pointless, sure I was going to die of an asthma attack some night and leave my poor mother to find my body. I think about the absolute loneliness of losing her and Bucky so soon after each other. I don't ever want to go back to that. I can't."

Neither spoke for a long time, the heavy silence only broken by Steve's heavy breaths, edges tinged with choked back pain. "I'm sorry," Tony finally managed.

"Just tell me there's a chance? Some day?" Steve tried.

Tony shook his head. "I can't. I can't. The thought of it - I would resent you. It makes me feel -" He shivered, walls and ceiling curving in towards him and shrinking the space, taking half the oxygen with it. "I can't. Never. I can't - I can't be what you need. I'm sorry. It was fine when this was casual, or - or me helping you out, but - but no. It's not -" He stood again, tried not to look at the deepening creases in Steve's expression. His eyes prickled, hot. "You need to find someone else."

Steve stood, shifting towards him, and Tony made for the door, gathering up his clothes as he passed through the bedroom, not bothering to put them on.

"JARVIS will help you get set up with Subscene," he muttered as he stuffed his shoes in his arms. "It's a great service and I'll pay for everything for ten years in advance. He'll order you all the fancy perks." Tony sniffed back the emotion that was threatening to spill over. "I just can't." His voice broke.

He bolted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys! Please don't kill me :D Two more chapters to go! <333


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all so here is an early chapter of Deep End! Last chapter is probably going up this Sunday. <3

In the elevator, Tony pulled his clothes on with shaky hands. Everything was spiralling out of control. He was halfway through typing out Rhodey's number when he stopped himself, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He paced across the tight space of the elevator, not pushing a button, not knowing where he wanted to go.

The truth was, there was only one place he wanted to go, and that was back into Steve's apartment. He hated this, hated the sinking, twisted feeling in his stomach, hated the thought that he'd never have Steve on his knees again, never be allowed to pet his fingers through his hair, slide a knot into place on his chest, stroke his cheek, own his submission. 

He smacked the button for the penthouse and the sudden movement of the elevator made him stumble to the side. He covered his mouth with his hand and squeezed his eyes shut. Something was going to break or burst or -

He hit the emergency stop and the elevator screeched to a halt. He couldn't see the numbers anymore, eyes blurry.

"Sir?" JARVIS prompted gently.

"Take me back to Steve's," Tony choked out. "I'm sorry. Take me back."

The elevator hummed back to life, and Tony pressed forward against the doors, feeling the vibrations rumble through his forehead. The elevator stopped, and he pushed through the doors as they slid open, half trotting back to Steve's front door. 

Tony knocked on the door then braced one hand against the door frame and rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. The door opened, and Steve appeared, brow creased and eyes pink around the edges. 

"I'm sorry," Tony breathed immediately, and Steve melted.

"Tony…"

Tony stepped inside, and Steve shut the door behind him then led the way over to the couch. When Tony sat, Steve dropped to his knees at his feet. Tony let out a long, slow breath as Steve tucked up against his calves and folded his arms over Tony's thighs. One of his fists was closed around the token Tony had given him. It felt like a lifetime ago. Steve dropped his face on top of his folded arms, and Tony reached out and furrowed both hands through Steve's hair. They stayed that way for a long time, in silence, breathing in tandem. 

Steve was a solid, steady weight against Tony's legs, absolute peace, even when his thoughts were a roiling, choppy mess. "I'm sorry," Tony repeated. 

Steve tipped his chin up and he smiled sadly. "I understand."

"No… no you don't. Because I didn't explain. But you deserve an explanation."

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"This time, I do. For both of us. Will you listen?"

Steve nodded, and Tony ran his thumb along the curve of his jaw once. "First of all, it wasn't you. I hope that was clear. It's never you. You're perfect, so good. This is me, my issue."

Something tight in Steve unwound, and Tony mentally kicked himself for leaving him in such a state. He hadn't even had Steve down and he'd risked subdrop, letting Steve think it might be him, that he might not have been good.

"I had a contract once," Tony started slowly, ignoring the look of surprise on Steve's face. "Yes, just once. That's all it took. What I'm about to tell you, only two other people know, two left alive anyway."

"Tony… you don't have to -"

"I can do this." He looked up sternly and caught Steve's flush. "I can... " Tony leaned back on the couch, breaking his contact with Steve. He sucked in a big breath. "I presented as a Dom pretty early on, and Howard was bitterly disappointed. I know it was probably different for you, you're that much younger than me, but in the seventies, people like Howard wanted subs as children. He wasn't looking for someone to take over his legacy or follow in his footsteps, he wasn't concerned with what would happen to SI after he died - he had people he trusted he would leave it to - no, he wanted a sub, because back then, subs were corporate capital. A sub could be contracted out, used to woo and entice, draw information. CEOs were almost exclusively Doms, and having a sub you could farm out was worth money in the bank."

Steve remained silent, but Tony could feel the tension radiating off of him.

"There was also a new theory coming out, around that time. An idea that if you caught it young enough, orientation could be chang-"

"No." Steve half stood, reeling back, then sat down hard again.

"Yeah." Tony tipped his eyes up to the ceiling. Steve's warm weight settled against his legs again. "Howard contracted me out, before I was old enough to sign for myself, as a _ sub, _ to his best friend and fellow board member, Obadiah Stane." 

"God... Tony. I'm so sorry."

"I can't do that to someone." He resisted the urge to curl in on himself, keeping his feet firmly planted on the floor. "He treated me like a sub, tried to train me to like submission. It made me sick, almost all the time. He had me under contract for a year and a half and then - then my parents died. HYDRA killed them… and I wasn't of age yet and he had my contract so -"

"So… he became your guardian."

Tony nodded. "Yup. After about two years, he decided I wasn't ever going to give into the submission and he stopped trying. He took other subs. But he didn't let me go. He already controlled my whole damn life, and I was so screwed up, half of me wanting to just give in already and find a way to like being at his feet, the other half of me raging against it. 

"When I turned twenty-one and my trust came through, he lost the contract and I, obviously, wouldn't sign another one. But he had a solid chunk of SI stock, was still on the board, and still had the ear of all the investors, movers and shakers. I was just a kid who built robots, who didn't know how to be a Dom, didn't know how to run a business. So I didn't fight it, when he made decisions, pushed things to be a certain way." Tony shivered as ghost fingers curled around the back of his neck.

"Over time, I managed to pull away from him. It was a long, slow process. But I met Pepper, and Rhodey came back from his first, and longest, tour. They both worked on talking some sense into me, pulling me away from him. I made new friends, I met subs who were sweet enough to kneel for me, even though I had no idea what I was doing. I had to rebuild myself one puzzle piece at a time, but over the ten years following, I figured things out. I went to therapy, I learned how to Dom, I got Subscene. I figured out how the business worked, starting getting my fingers into it, and I started building my own relationships with the board members, even brought on a few new ones when the others retired. Slowly, SI turned towards me. Obie was started to become obsolete and he knew it.

"He wasn't my Dom anymore, couldn't tell me what to do, but he still had a hold on me I couldn't shake. I still believed that at his core he wanted what was best for me, best for SI, even if he wasn't always right about how to get there. I was still in his orbit as much as I didn't want to be."

Steve let out a soft noise, and Tony finally forced himself to look up and meet his eye. Steve had his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He was pale, white, and his eyes were damp and shaking.

"He… he was stealing from SI. He was selling our weapons on the black market. There was no big plot or evil villain. He was just selfish. He didn't care who he hurt - he wanted money. He had me kidnapped, tried to have me killed. I managed to wiggle my way out of that. I came back - For months,  _ months,  _ he played my friend, acted like he was happy to see me." Tony shook his head. "It was him - all of it him. He ended up stealing the arc reactor, trying to kill me again and use my technology to give him even more power."

Steve's thumb brushed over Tony's cheek and he looked up, realizing that Steve had caught a tear on his thumb, and that Tony was rattling his fingers against the arc reactor so hard both his wrist and chest were aching. Steve held out his hands with a questioning tilt of his head and Tony took both of them, winding their fingers together. 

"He died. He died trying to kill me. And I'm relieved he's gone, of course I am, but sometimes it still hits me that he's  _ gone.  _ And I don't actually know how to live without him. I've had him hovering over me my entire life. I feel… untethered without him.

"And I don't want to give him any victories over me, but there's one thing I just can't seem to -"

"Contracts," Steve finished for him, his voice shaky.

"Yes." Tony squeezed Steve's fingers between his. "I just can't. He ruined it all for me. I do one night, one sub. A new sub the next night. That's who I am. I should be grateful I can take anyone down at all. But what I did to you? Letting us get this far, this tangled, it was horrible of me. I'm so sorry."

Steve was quiet for a long moment. "You couldn't even - not with someone who gives their submission freely?"

Tony shook his head and dropped Steve's hands, running rough fingers through his own hair. "How can any submission be given freely when you're bound to someone like that? I just - no. It doesn't work for me. I can't imagine taking your right to say no away from you like that. It - it -" Tony swallowed heavily. "I can't - I know it doesn't make sense - I just -"

"Okay," Steve said gently, dropping his cheek to Tony's knee again. "That's okay." He sounded so completely devastated that Tony had to fight not to let another tear sneak free. 

"Last night was amazing," Tony said.

"It was."

"You were amazing." Tony stroked through Steve's hair again. "I wish that was enough to change me."

"You don't need to change. I love you the way you are," Steve said gently, and hot tingles rushed through Tony's veins. "I understand, Tony, I really do. I'm not going to force you to sign with me, of course not. I - I just don't think I can keep doing this as something casual. But maybe - maybe -"

"No, no. Don't do that to yourself. I don't ever want you to feel unsafe with me. It's - Can you give me a week?"

"What?"

"Can you just - can you wait a week to sign up for the service? Give me a week to - I don't know - to process this. To decide… or to… get over you. I don't know." Tony scrubbed his hand over his face. "I just can't deal with you going down for someone else right now. I know that's horribly selfish." His stomach rolled with nausea at the mental image of Steve on his knees at another Dom's feet.

"No, Tony. Of course, I can do that. I can wait." Steve squeezed his thigh gently. "I'll wait for you."

"If you need anything, you can come to me."

"I know."

"I can - I'll talk to a contractor, my - my therapist - Maybe -"

"Don't give me false hope, either." Steve dropped his eyes to Tony's legs and picked idly at the seam of his pants. "If it won't make you happy, I don't want it. I only want to be with you if you're happy."

Everything Tony could think to say seemed like it would only make things worse, so he settled for tugging Steve in closer and holding him tightly, down against his thighs. Steve sunk into his hold with a soft sigh. If only this could just  _ work. _ Just the two of them, like this. Tony said all the words silently to himself that he couldn't say out loud.

It was over an hour before they moved, and even then, they just climbed into Steve's bed together and curled up under the covers. Steve pressed against him with every inch of his body, and Tony held him so tightly his shoulder started to ache.

When Tony woke up a few hours later, Steve was stretched out on his back, arms folded behind his head, face tilted towards Tony, watching him.

"Are you safe?" Tony asked.

Steve nodded. "Are you?"

Tony barked out a laugh. "No one's ever asked me that before. Loaded fucking question, isn't it?"

"It always is."

Tony watched Steve's smile twist sad then he leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead. He slipped out of bed, leaving Steve behind. This time, he made it all the way down to the workshop.

This time, he let the tears fall.

**

Rhodey only managed twenty-four hours off, but Tony went in the private jet to pick him up and Rhodey spent all twenty-four of them with Tony. They drank their way through a bottle of amber liquid, watching stupid movies, and Rhodey didn't let Tony be too hard on himself. 

"I know breakups suck, Tones. But the ones that hurt the most, those were the best relationships too. It means that what you had was good. Some day, you'll be able to look back on it fondly."

Tony snorted. His hair was plastered to his forehead, tickling his eyelid, but moving his arm was too much work. There was something hard digging into his lower back, and he was pretty sure it was Rhodey's foot, but Rhodey didn't seem inclined to move either. Tony smacked his dry tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Fuck that," he groaned out. "Don't want to remember at all."

Rhodey patted him on what was probably supposed to be the top of his head, but was actually his face. Tony scrunched up his nose and tried to blink Rhodey's fingerprint out of his eye. "You'll be alright."

"I know."

They fell into silence for a while.

"Wanna watch A-Team and play air guitar along to the theme music?"

Tony picked up the empty bottle and shook it with a frown. It failed to refill. "Yes."

The rest of the night was a blur. In the morning, Rhodey hauled himself back onto the plane to head back home, and Tony face-planted on his workshop couch for several hours. When he could move without the room spinning, Tony threw himself into his work. He was constantly on edge, waiting for Steve to call him, to need him, terrified that he'd be so broken, so messed up and confused and hungover that he'd screw up bringing him down and break Steve just as badly. If he hadn't already.

A knock echoed through the workshop, and Tony jumped, hand snapping to cover the arc reactor. "A little warning, J?"

"My apologies, sir."

Tony peered through the glass and saw Natasha's shape on the other side. He waved her in. She sat down on the floor next to Tony, leaning back on the edge of the tire he was currently unscrewing from the Aston Martin he'd been working on. "Are you okay?"

He held back a sigh, worried she'd read everything he was feeling in it - as well as smell last night's sorrow-drowning. "You talked to Steve," he said, instead of answering.

"Steve talked to me. He needed someone to talk to. He's worried he made a mistake somewhere."

Tony shook his head. "I keep telling him it wasn't him. It's me. I'm too fucked up to take care of him. Dammit, I can't even break things off without fucking him up."

Nat's warm hand landed on his thigh, and Tony tossed aside his wrench, giving up all pretense of working. "That's not what I meant. He told me you had a good reason for not wanting to contract. And I've - I've read most of SHIELD's files on you. I have an idea what that reason is."

"Ah. Yeah." Tony picked at a loose seam on his pants. "I can't give him what he needs."

"Are you sure about that?" Nat tilted her head and eyed him carefully. "I can't speak for Steve, of course, but I know him pretty well by now. He asked me why you couldn't love him. What he'd done or hadn't done or if there was something about him."

Tony's eyes snapped up to hers. She was unreadable, studying him carefully. "He said  _ what?"  _

"To him, a contract equals love. You love someone, you contract with them. He understands you can't contract with anyone, but he also can't separate that from the idea that you can't love him. Can't love anyone. Can't do a serious relationship. It hurts him. And he's worried about you."

Tony opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for what to say.

"And maybe you don't. Maybe you can't love him. But you smell like cheap booze, Rhodey spent the entire night in your penthouse and left this morning looking like he'd been run over by a tank, and you haven't changed your clothes in days. So I'm thinking maybe this wasn't just a casual scene to you."

Tony shook his head violently. "No… no it really wasn't. Of course I love him. How could I not? I've been in love with him for months." Tony was aware he was gesturing too much but he couldn't reel it in, now that the words were spilling out. "That's part of the  _ problem.  _ I couldn't keep it casual. I kept fucking pushing things, winding us together. I knew this would happen. I knew it would have to end and I'd have to be the one to end it, and I still let it get this far.  _ Fuck." _

"Why does it have to end?"

"I  _ can't  _ contract, Nat. Not ever. That's not going to change."

Natasha gazed serenely out across the workshop. "You know, Clint tried to kill me the first time we met." She smiled.

Tony snorted. "Sounds about right. What did you do?"

"Tried to kill him right back."

"Right. Of course."

"We contracted after being together for six months."

"That long? Really?"

"Yup." Nat looked at him pointedly. "Our contract is written on a napkin from a bar. It's just fifteen words and our signatures. Clint has it framed."

Tony blinked at her. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Not every contract is traditional."

"I know. I get it. Steve wants a signature, though. And it's not something I can give him."

"Does he?"

"He said he does. Sam said he does. I can't change his mind. He reminded me of that very pointedly. As much as he can't change my mind."

"When two people can't change their minds, they either have to part, or find a compromise."

"Is there a compromise here?"

Nat shrugged. "I don't know. You're the genius. If there is one, you can find it." She squeezed his knee again and stood. "And if  _ you _ can't, you can be sure that there isn't one. You can call me if you need anything. Even if what you need is for someone else you trust to take Steve down next time he needs it."

"Clint won't mind?"

"Not for a friend." Nat bent over and pressed a kiss to the top of Tony's hair. He wasn't sure if the friend in question was him or Steve. "You smell awful," she told him, and then she was gone.

Tony sat for a long time, staring at the wall, rolling the wrench around in his hands. 


	16. Chapter 16

Tony shifted his weight from foot to foot, staring at the closed door in front of him. He'd been pacing around his apartment for almost an hour now, waiting. 

When the knock finally came, he whipped it open. Steve was standing there. He didn't have the shield, but Tony could see the ghost of it in the way he leaned away, hands in his pockets and arms pressed closed to his sides, shoulders hunched down; he was guarded. They hadn't seen each other at all in three days, and Tony's gut ached at the sight of him now.

"I love you."

Steve's sharp blue eyes snapped to Tony's. "W-what?"

Tony had wanted to meet here so Steve could leave if he wanted to, but now it felt weird, like he'd summoned Steve, still had the right to. He also hadn't meant to just blurt that out. 

Tony took a breath. "I love you. I should have said that before. I'm sorry. I've probably loved you since that first day, at SHIELD. You were so broken but still so beautiful… I was fucked from the start, Steve. And I should have told you, because the more I thought about it, the more I realized I hadn't. Hadn't told you not just how good you are, how strong, and gorgeous, and generous, but how much I love you, want you. How much I value your submission." Steve just stared, so Tony beckoned him in and sat him on the couch then handed him a glass of water. Steve clutched it gratefully but didn't drink.

"Sorry, I'm - I'm confused," Steve admitted, quietly.

"There's so much I never told you. I never told you how I think about you when you're not there, how I crave you, right down to my core. I never told you how much it meant to me to have you in my arms, watch you fall apart with pleasure and know I was the one that brought you there. I never told you how scared I was when I thought you had died - how much it hurt to tell you I couldn't be what you wanted. And I'm sorry if I made you think I don't care about you. I do. None of this was your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I meant it when I said you were always perfect. You were - are. That always made this so much harder. I should have said all of that earlier."

"Oh, Tony." Steve's voice shook.

"I should have told you all of that, because you were right before, about me deciding your trauma for you. I decided everything for you. In an effort to protect you, I hid my own feelings, my own desires. I decided it wasn't fair to show you something I knew you couldn't have, so I hid it. I was sure I couldn't ever be anything but bad for you, so I made it seem like I didn't care, and I didn't even think about how much that might hurt you. I'm sorry for that."

Steve didn't seem able to speak anymore, trembling slightly where he sat, but he nodded roughly.

"I took your choice away from you by refusing to even try, to even talk about this, really, but I'm not going to do that anymore." Tony took a steadying breath. "I'm going to make you an offer, and I'm going to trust your answer. Either what I have to give is good enough for you, or it's not. I need to know that you'll tell the truth, that you won't hang your hopes on some 'maybe' that's probably never going to happen. I can't contract with you. I can't think you're relying on that changing. You have to promise me that much."

"I promise."

"Okay." Tony shifted around, trying to find the words he'd practiced in the mirror early, but they were like fireflies, dancing out of his grasp. "Okay. Here." He dug the small box out of his pocket and rested it on Steve's knee. "This is what I have to offer."

"What -?" Steve took the box and ran his thumb along the seam. "What is it?" He levered it open. Tony watched him take in the contents, his eyes skating over the smooth metal surface of the ring, catching on the engraving  _ Yours, T.  _ "What -?" he breathed again, eyes widening.

"It's a contract," Tony explained. "It's the best I can do. I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to take care of you and have you be mine. I want to be the only one you go down for, and I want you to be the only one I take there. I want us to be together."

"Is this a contract ring?" Steve asked, eyes wide.

Tony chuckled nervously. "I know it's super old fashioned. I don't know anyone who wears one, but it's the best I could do. I can't make you a promise in paper and ink, so I'm making it in metal instead. I hope - I hope that can be enough."

A soft, sad smile bloomed across Steve's face. "My mom wore a contract ring."

"Really?"

"Really. It was my great-great-great grandmother's or something. They kept passing it down and when each daughter got contracted, she'd wear it. I think my dad thought it was silly, but I always loved it. I thought it was romantic." Steve's cheeks pinked. "It used to be all you could do, when contractors were expensive and most people couldn't read or write." He met Tony's gaze. "I like old-fashioned."

"Is that -? Steve you haven't exactly said yes or no here and I'm about to sweat through my Armani."

Steve laughed softly. He ran the pad of his thumb along the edge of the squared-off ring then brushed it over the engraving. "Tony… you didn't have to do this."

Tony's heart plummeted two stories down, taking his stomach with it. Didn't have to do this… because Steve didn't want it?

"I would have been happy just to hear you say 'I love you.' That's all I needed, really, as it turns out, even just to know that was possible, someday, for you to feel about me the way I do about you, even if you didn't feel that way yet." Steve took a shaky breath, brow furrowing as he stumbled his way through the words. "Tony, I've given it a lot of thought and I don't need a paper contract, not exactly - I trust you, I feel safe with you - I just need a promise, that you're going to stay, that I mean something to you, that this is important and real and worth fighting for. That you _ want  _ me. When you said you couldn't contract, it sounded to me like you couldn't be serious with a sub. You said it had nothing to do with love. You said this was easier when it was casual. I - all of this started because you were helping me out when you didn't want to. Maybe… maybe that never changed, you were always just doing it for me. So I thought that was all you wanted. Someone you could walk away from and shift off onto another Dom, once I had my bearings. I just need to know that something hard but serious is what you want with me."

This time, it was so easy for Tony to say, "I want you. I love you. I want hard and serious, I  _ swear.  _ It's all I want."

Steve beamed. "I love you, too. And I'm sorry if I wasn't clear, either. I never thought anyone could want me like this. I couldn't believe it was anything but casual or altruistic for you. I kept trying to fight my feelings, trying to convince myself that a tiny bit of you was better than nothing at all. But now -" He looked down at the ring box again then slipped off the couch and sunk to his knees. He placed his right hand in Tony's lap, fingers spread wide. "Please?"

"Oh shit. Wow. Okay." Tony fumbled with the ring box and tugged it free of its casing. He rolled the loop of metal between his fingers for a moment then lifted Steve's hand and slid it down his finger. It looked good there. It looked  _ right.  _ "Wow." Tony brought Steve's hand up to his face and pressed his lips over the ring. "Thank you."

Steve climbed up from the floor and settled on Tony's lap, forearms resting on his shoulders. They smiled stupidly at each other for a while. "It's a good compromise," Steve murmured.  _ "Thank you."  _

"Uh, we actually both need to thank Natasha." Tony chuckled. "She screwed my head on straight."

"I'm sending her flowers. And maybe a car."

Tony's chuckles broke into full laughter, giddy and overwhelmed. He reached up and cupped Steve's face between his hands, stroking his thumbs over his cheeks. "Are you sure?" he asked softly.

Steve smirked. "I thought you were going to trust my choice?"

"Shit, I did say that, didn't I?" He shook his head. "You're right, you're right. I'm sorry. I trust you. Just hard to believe someone wants all this, but okay."

"I want you, Tony. I love you. Just the way you are."

There was no way hearing that was ever going to get old. "I love you, too." Tony eased Steve's face down to his, bringing their lips together in the first kiss that wasn't tainted with bitter pain. Steve was sweet and soft in his hold, relaxing against Tony's chest and letting him guide the kiss deeper. 

Tony took his time, exploring Steve's mouth, feeling him go soft and easy against him, sinking into his chest, melting against him. When he couldn't stand it anymore, Tony twisted Steve back down to the couch and spread out on top of him, slipping a leg between his and grinning when Steve immediately started rutting against his thigh. "What do you want, baby?" Tony asked.

"I want you. All of you, this time. And the morning after," Steve whispered against his lips. "Tell me you love me while you take me and bring me down. And be there when I wake up. That's all I want."

"I'll be there. I've got you. I love you." Tony ran his hand up Steve's arm and wrapped his fingers around his wrist. It pushed a gasp out of Steve, and Tony couldn't help asking, "Can I tie you up?"

"Yes, please," Steve begged, a moan winding through the words. 

Tony stood up and dragged Steve up with him, pulling him back into a kiss. They staggered backwards towards the bedroom, lips breaking apart when Steve started laughing and Tony couldn't help but laugh too. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Steve fell backwards on the bed, spread out like a buffet for Tony. "I'm just really happy."

Tony lay down next to him, tracing fingertips along Steve's jawline. "Me too. I never thought I'd get to have this. I wrote it off a long time ago. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out."

"It's okay. I'm sorry too. You told me you couldn't contract and I didn't take it seriously enough. I told myself you just wanted to take it slow. I kept tacking a 'yet' on the end, and that wasn't fair to either of us. I made you feel like you had to tell me your past, even if you didn't want to, just so I would believe that you really couldn't ever contract. I'm sorry for that."

"We both spent a lot of time putting how we feel on the other person, didn't we?"

Steve smiled. "Yeah, we're pretty good at that."

"We're going to talk more now, though, right?"

"Definitely." Steve's fingers went to the ring and he spun it around and around. 

"So," Tony drawled, rolling over to cover Steve with his body. "In the spirit of being open and honest about what we want, I'd really like to tie you up and fuck you now."

Steve swallowed heavily then closed his eyes and titled his chin back, exposing his neck to Tony. "I want that too, please."

Tony pushed up off the bed. "Strip." While Steve whipped out of his clothes, Tony went to the closet and pulled out a pair of cuffs and a length of chain with clips on the end. He returned to find Steve kneeling on the bed, naked, hands resting on his thighs. He smiled at Tony when he appeared, and Tony realized how much pain and uncertainty had been twisted through that smile before. He didn't notice until it was gone. "I want to make you smile like that every day," he said, crawling up the bed and pressing up against Steve, making him shuffle backwards towards the headboard. "You look so beautiful when you're happy."

"Tony."

"Give me your arms," Tony Commanded, and Steve's hands shot out, palms up, his wrists an offering. Tony slipped a cuff around each one and tightened it. Steve couldn't seem to look away, entranced by the black leather and metal wrapped around him. Tony snapped the second cuff around Steve's other wrist, engaging the lock. He eased Steve's arms up over his head and hooked them to the chain which he hooked to a hole near the top of the headboard. He tightened it until Steve's body was taunt, on display and all accessible to him, then clipped the end down. Steve groaned and his cock twitched up against his stomach, red and hard and full.

"So beautiful like this," Tony mused, tracing every inch of him with his eyes, all the dips and curves he never allowed himself to explore before. "How far down are you?" Steve had slipped down into the deep end while Tony tied him up, and there was a heavy haze over his eyes already.

"Down," Steve said with a slow, soft breath. "On my way to pretty far. Thank you."

"Good boy. You can go as far as you want. I'll be here." Tony cupped his jaw then leaned forward and kissed him filthily. "I'll catch you."

Steve sighed with pleasure then started to squirm in the bonds, testing his strength against them. Tony watched wide eyed as Steve tugged on the chains, shifting his legs wide, muscles bulging and back arching as he settled in. Steve tugged again and the cuff creaked, one loop in the chain suddenly gapping where the link had snapped open. Tony stilled and stared at it. It was still holding, but just barely. "Wow."

Steve looked up sharply and his cheeks inflamed. "I'm sorry." He flinched.

"Are you kidding? That's so fucking hot."

"But I'm breaking your things…"

Tony leaned forward and breathed hot air on Steve's neck, curling up towards his ear. "I like watching you struggle," he whispered. "I'll just have to build you stronger cuffs."

Steve twitched and gasped. "God…"

"Can't believe you're all mine." Tony teased a finger down Steve's chest and he arched into it, head falling back, eyes closing, mouth opening.

"All yours…"

Tony stood back and stripped off his own clothes, taking his time and enjoying the sight of Steve writhing in his bonds, eager and desperate. He grabbed a lube bottle out of his bedside drawer then eased Steve's knees forward as far as they could go, leaving him hanging from the chains, his shoulders braced against the headboard. His body was stretched out long, muscles forming all kinds of delicious dips and curves. Tony explored them with his tongue, coating his fingers in lube blindly while he tasted every inch of Steve he could find. He licked a stripe up the length of his cock, sucking on the head until Steve's breaths were broken and choppy. 

_ "Tony, Tony, Tony,"  _ Steve whined.

"Yeah, say my name," Tony Commanded.

Steve stilled, his eyes opening and finding Tony's. "Tony…" he breathed, reverent.

"Good boy." Tony bit hard over his hip and Steve jerked and moaned, his cock twitching up against Tony's cheek. "I'm going to work you open now. You'd better not come until my cock is inside you. Okay?"

Steve swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Yes, Tony."

"My good boy." He bent forward and kissed Steve, licking into his mouth as his hand slipped lower, between Steve's legs. He teased Steve's cock with a light touch, circled around behind his balls then pressed his fingertip to his hole. Steve's body gave to him easily, welcoming his touch, and he slid his finger deep, his mouth falling open when Steve moaned and kicked his hips further forward, muscles rippling around Tony's finger.

Tony eased him open then added a second finger, his cock hard and throbbing against Steve's thigh as he tried to resist just rutting forward and pressing inside. He sucked Steve's nipple into his mouth, swirling with his tongue then biting down as he stretched his fingers wider. 

Tony grabbed Steve's hips and pulled him forward into his lap. Steve whimpered as the cuffs stretched his arms long. "Tony, please," he begged. 

"I know what you need." Tony smeared lube on his cock then lined up and slid in with one long, slow slide. Steve's slick heat stole his breath and he had to pause for a moment when he was fully seated to figure out how to stay conscious. Steve clenched down around him, and Tony cursed, his hips starting to thrust without his permission. He was so desperate to draw this out, to take his time, but it felt so good, he wasn't sure he was going to be able to hold out.

Tony dropped his slick hand to Steve's cock and teased it, stroking slowly while he rocked in and out of his hole. 

"Oh, Tony," Steve breathed. "That feels so good."

Steve blinked open his eyes and he was completely lost to subspace, hazy and floating, fixed on nothing but Tony. "You're so good," Tony whispered. "Perfect. Everything I want. I love you so much."

A soft sigh leaked out of Steve's lips. "Thank you." 

Tony dipped to Steve's neck and bit down then nuzzled forward, breathing him in. He couldn't believe he got to have him like this, without reservation. Tony stretched up to cover Steve's hands with his, finding the ring on his finger and holding it as he sought his heat over and over again. Pleasure coiled deep, building and tingling through his core. "Shit, I want this to go on forever, but I'm not going to last. You feel so good."

"Oh god, Tony." Steve shook, arms jerking in the cuffs, making the chains creak. He rippled and rolled in Tony's lap, grinding down, unable to keep still as Tony kept fucking into him. "I'm gonna - can I? Can I come? Please?"

"Oh yeah, baby. You can come. Go on. Come for me," Tony Commanded.

"Oh,  _ fuck -"  _ Steve stilled, and Tony slammed home again, pressing deep inside him, and Steve came. He arched his back, mouth open in a silent cry. Pleasure rippled through him then he started twitching and whimpering in Tony's hold, shooting lines of come over his chest, up to his neck, dripping down his sweaty skin.

Steve kept shaking through the aftershocks, and Tony hooked his legs and drew them up towards his filthy chest, changing the angle so he could rock inside him. He was smooth and slick and hot and Tony wasn't going to last. He was going to blow or die or  _ something  _ because it wasn't possible to hang on this edge any longer and not -

_ "Steve!"  _ He pulled back after the next thrust and stroked himself as he came, watching in awe as he covered Steve's chest, his come mixing with Steve's, spilling over his hand, over Steve's cock and pooling in his belly button.

Tony hunched forward, one hand bracing on the headboard next to Steve's arm. He panted heavily, trying to find his breath again while Steve hung heavily from the cuffs, still twitching through the aftershocks. 

When Tony had control of his body again, he ran both hands up Steve's sides and then over his shoulders and up his arms. He groaned softly, eyes still closed, body limp. Tony hit the release on the right cuff and eased Steve's arm down slowly, rolling his shoulder out for him. He followed it with the other arm.

He felt high - giddy and stupid and hyper-aware of the world around him, and how much of it was Steve. "You okay, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

Steve nodded dopily. "'mazing," he slurred. "Thank y…"

"My pleasure." Tony pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose and then his forehead. He found wet wipes in the scene drawer by the bed and cleaned them both off, then he pulled the blankets back and urged Steve down flat on the bed. He drew the blankets back up around both of them and wrapped himself around Steve, drawing their bodies close together. 

He'd wanted to say this every single time he'd held Steve in his arms from the first day they met.  _ "Mine," _ he whispered into Steve's hair. "I love you."

"Yours," Steve replied. "All yours." He pressed the hand with his contract ring on it against Tony's chest, over his heart. "Only yours."

"You can sleep, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up. We can have a lazy morning."

"Okay." Steve burrowed deeper. "I feel incredible."

"Me too. This is everything I've ever wanted. Thank you," a surprise knot in Tony's throat choked his voice. "Thank you for thinking I'm enough."

Steve pushed back, up onto his elbow and looked down at Tony. His pupils were blown black, eyes unfocused, but he still found Tony's gaze and held it. "You're not just enough, you're everything. I love you." Steve dipped forward and kissed him then nestled back into his hold. Tony buried his face in Steve's hair, breathing in his closeness. 

"I love you, too."

And when Steve woke up, Tony was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!! Thank you so much for reading - I love you all! Thank you for commenting and kudosing and bookmarking and sending me asks and just being here in fandom and being awesome!
> 
> A huuuge thank you to whenasinsilks who had to wait an extra four months for the rest of her fandomstocking present hahaha. I hope it was worth it - hey at least it's done before next year's fs, right? :P Thank you so much for your stocking, I got a wee bit inspired, it seems (^_^)
> 
> And huge thank you to ashes0909 who cheeread the outline, beta read the whole thing, and is always there being loved by my whole damn heart <3


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